Double Trouble
by Mis Chi Evous
Summary: The continuation of the TiF universe. A mysterious illness is killing off the Death Eaters, and it's up to a combination of the Potter children and the regular four to solve the mystery before Sirius dies!
1. Child Of The Night

Author's Note: Okay, just a few things before we get started on the sequel to "Correspondence." If you haven't read "Just Us Girls", and "Ginny's Surprise", you're probably lost. Ron and Hermione are engaged, and Harry and Ginny have twin boys, James and Mick. Please note that Ron, Harry, and Hermione are all 25 years old. 25 years old! That means that they will be talking like they are 25 years old. This story is rated PG-13 for profanity, as you can see by my previous statement. Let's see, what else do you need to know? Oh, yes. If you enjoy this story, please, join my Yahoo! Group, located here: Tested In Fire Fans

I want to thank Anne, for beta'ing this story. Without her, the amount of typos would be amazing. Really, I'm not kidding.

Raina was originally Meg's character. I stole her, developed her a bit, changed her around, fixed her up, and basically made a new character, but I kept the name. So, I'm giving her credit. Besides which, she deserves it!

Also, I want to thank and dedicate this _entire_ story to Jessica, because she inspired me, and because she gets a character named after her.

Chapter One: Child Of The Night

Remus paused for a moment, lifting his quill, his unusually sharp ears listening, listening for something that was out of place. Something was definitely out of place. He had no infants in the house anymore, as Orion was five, and they weren't babysitting for any of their friends tonight. At least, he didn't think so. Perhaps Anna had forgotten to mention something, or she had, and he hadn't been paying attention… 

"Hmm." He rose slowly to his feet, careful to make no sound as he crossed the thick carpet. They were living in Anna's house now, as he by himself had very little money, and was still paying off debts from the years when he couldn't find a job.

"Remus." His wife of now nine years, Anna Lupin, came up behind him and laid a hand on his shoulder. "What's wrong? I thought I heard something."  
  


"So did I. We're not babysitting are we?"

"No," Anna said. "You mean, it's the sound of a baby crying?" Even now, after years of being involved with him, sometimes she was amazed by his unusually sharp senses.

"Yes. But it's farther off than I thought. Anna, it's on the grounds."

"Could it be a trap? There are still some Death Eaters about, and Ron and his coworkers haven't caught Draco yet. Harry warned us just last week to watch our step, and we know he's still involved, somewhat."

Remus nodded. "It could be Draco's men."

"It could also not be a trap. It could be someone in need of help."

"It could be."

Anna bit her lip to keep from strangling her husband. "One of us should look and see what it is."

"That's one option," Remus agreed quietly. 

"But?"

"The other option is to call Ron in."

Anna's eyes snapped. "It's his night off."

"Magical Law Enforcement Officers don't have nights off, especially when they pull double-duty as barristers from time to time. Besides, he owes us a favor."

"Remus…" Anna's eyes shifted. "I don't want to do this. What if it's a false alarm? Then Ron would have come all the way out here for nothing, and…"

"All the way out here?" Remus chuckled. "I don't think he's that far away, dearest. Hermione's in town."

"I knew that," Anna retorted quickly. "Oh, I see."

"She tells me that her bill for werewolf equality might pass." Even now, even after years of being let down, hope shown in Remus's eyes. "I can find work easily enough, but now that the Wolfsbane potion is in use, all werewolves should be able to…"

"You're preaching to the choir."

"Can you imagine?" He leaned down and kissed her fiercely. "And she was one of my best students, too."

Anna giggled. "Aren't you the proud papa?"

"I'm entitled to bask every now and again." Suddenly, the grin was wiped off of his face. "Whatever it is, it's getting closer. I'm calling Ron."

"Remus…"

"Anna." The tone of his voice booked no argument.

"You're a stubborn pig of a man," she informed him with no heat.

"Yes, and you're the most beautiful and wonderful woman a werewolf, even a man, could hope to marry."

"You're drop dead sexy when you say things like that."

Remus raised his eyes brows almost unnoticeably, but his wife, who was used to his facial expressions, saw it and grinned. 

"I know," he whispered in her ear, making her shiver. Then he walked toward the nearest fireplace.

"Don't you think you can seduce me into getting your way, Remus Joseph Lupin. I'll have your…"

"Ron Weasley. What do you want, damn it?  It had better be good, because I've got Hermione here, and if it's not good, and I mean really good, your bl… Oh, hello Remus."

"Ron." Remus grinned, in spite of the probable danger he felt was approaching his house. "I have a bit of an unwelcome visitor. I have Anna and Orion here, so I'm a bit reluctant to take care of it myself…"

"I'll be right over," Ron told him, and was gone immediately, only to be replaced by Hermione.

"Are you lot all right?"

"Yes, we're fine," Anna said calmly, "it's just that Remus heard something, and we're all still a bit jumpy, and we wouldn't want anything to happen…"

"Ron has loads of training in this sort of thing. He'll set things right and be back with me in a short while," Hermione said aloud, not quite sure whose nerves she was trying to steady.

"That's right," Anna said soothingly. "I'm awfully sorry about this, but Remus insisted."

Hermione smiled weakly. "It's all right. It's his job. He's got…" She caught herself repeating what she'd just said, and her smile faltered just a bit, but she finished out the sentence, "Loads of training. It's just that stupid limp of his. He won't admit that he has a problem. Oh, I just wish somebody could talk to him. Nothing gets through that thick skull of his. I've tried everything to make him see reason."

Anna wished that she could do something to reassure the younger woman, but knew that she couldn't.

"I'm not allowed to go on calls with him, even unofficial ones, and there's a law about that, otherwise I would stuff that excuse where the sun doesn't shine."

Anna blinked at the use of strong language -- well, strong language by Hermione's standards.

"Hermione, we think they're trying to use a lure to get us out of the house," Remus told her, knowing that the more information she had, the better off that she would be.

"With what?" Hermione's eyes searched Remus's face first, then Anna's.

"The sound of a baby crying. It's driving me crazy," Anna told Hermione. "Absolutely crazy. The mother in me wants to go over and hurt whatever's making that child scream like that."

"It's a pretty clever lure," Hermione muttered. "I don't know of any spells like that, but I suppose I could look it up…"

Ron, quite suddenly, was there. "I'm sorry I took so long. I wanted to round up a few things, and I reckoned that if your intruders were Death Eaters, the wards around this place would buy me a few hours."

"Ron, they're trying to draw the Lupins out of their house."

Ron's attention immediately was drawn to his girlfriend. "With what?"

A piercing scream broke the silence. 

Anna drew a breath. "With that. It's closer now than it's ever been before."

Ron shuddered unconsciously. "That'd get me out of my house, if I didn't have my guard up."

Her eyes narrowed, Ron's girlfriend studied him. "You're never without your guard up these days."

The look that passed in between them was hot, and full of something. Anna sternly reminded herself that what was going on in between the young couple was none of her business.

Ignoring Hermione, Ron drew himself up. "I'm going to go check it out."

"Ron!"

"What, Hermione?" He turned slowly to face her. "I don't really have a lot of time…"

"You're going out there without a team? Without someone to watch your back? Honestly. Sometimes I think you have a death wish."

Ron shook his head and grinned. "I'm not going to be alone. Harry's out there."

Everyone stopped whatever movement they were making and stared. 

"Harry?" Hermione whispered. "But, he's off active duty, and Ginny and the twins want him at home, I'm sure…"

Ron nodded. "That's what I told him."

"So why is helping, then?" Hermione asked, obviously confused.

"Because it's Remus and Anna." Ron shrugged. "He feels some sort of loyalty towards them. Can't imagine why," he finished sarcastically.

"Don't attack me, Ron."

"I'm not attacking you, Hermione."

"You're using that tone of voice."

"Hermione, we don't have time…"

"Fine. We don't ever have time. And it's too bad if you actually have time for _me_ tonight, because as of right now, I don't have any time for you. Good night."

With that, the fire went out.

"Damn it," Ron muttered.

"Ron," Anna said warningly.

"Sorry," Ron muttered again, out of habit.

"Listen, Ron," Remus started.

"I'm going to go meet Harry out in the foyer. We'll come back and make a report. See you later."

As he stomped down the stairs, he went over the conversation again and again in his mind. He honestly couldn't tell what he'd done wrong this time. Suddenly, it came to him. Hermione had some objection to him being seemingly shackled to his work all the time, he knew, but he hadn't been fully aware of the extent of her resentment.

When he finally reached the foyer, Harry stood waiting for Ron, his winter cloak a striking green this evening, and when they were in speaking distance, the first words out of Harry's mouth were, "Fight with Hermione tonight, did you?"

"Yes. Damned if I know what about, though. We'll work it out, I imagine."

"Women, mate," was all Harry said, in a slightly confused tone of voice.

"Amen," Ron agreed, and that was all they needed to say.

"Let's go see about this lure of theirs before it causes serious damage, shall we?" 

Ron nodded. "Let's go."

The Lupins lived, not in Lupin Lodge, as many people suspected they did, but actually in a house in the English countryside, just outside of the wizarding town of Thumblewump. The yard was eerily quiet as Harry and Ron stepped out of the elegant but simple home, and the peace was now only occasionally broken by the screams and ragged sobs of what sounded like a baby.

They moved together, an old team, without any awkwardness or pauses. They knew instinctively what the other was going to do. 

_"Ðefensia,"_ Harry whispered, and immediately a shield wrapped around them.

Ron grinned. "Still your favorite, isn't it?"

Harry shrugged. "Bitter-sweet memories, I guess. Neville would be proud that it's named after him."

"Longbottom's Shield. Who would've thought?" Ron wondered out loud.

"Certainly not us."

There was a pause in the conversation as they both took stock of where they were, and where the screams that had turned to sobs were coming from.

"If it's a lure, it's a pretty convincing one," Harry whispered to Ron.

"I'll say," Ron whispered back. "Sounds like Jamie or Mick when they've got something wrong with them."

"My boys don't ever have anything wrong with them," Harry said defensively.

"Yeah," Ron said dismissively, "that's what you say now."

Harry chuckled. "I bow to your superior experience."

"Very funny, mate."

Shrugging, Harry blew it off. "I thought it was."

"You would. Do you want to know why? Because you're demented. You've always been demented. No sane person would have sneaked past a three-headed dog, caught homicidal keys on an ancient broomstick, played chess with an enchanted set, and drunk a potion of who knows what, only to face a representative of Voldemort at eleven years old…"

"As I recall, you were involved in that particular mishap, as well," Harry said lightly.

"I'm demented, too. Have to be, in my line of work. At least, it seems that way." 

Harry made a noise in the back of his throat that could have meant something. 

"Keep your comments to yourself," Ron whispered.

"I didn't say anything!" Harry whispered back, but they both stopped in their tracks.

"Oh, shit. That doesn't look like a pile of rocks to me," Ron said, and pointed out a lump on the ground.

They both picked up the pace, and soon found what they were looking for in a swarm of flies that were hovering around a lump of something… 

"That's a body. That's a human body," Ron said, and they both broke out running.

Harry's eyes flashed once in pain, but then his training took over. Simultaneously, he and Ron cast Sealing charms over their hands so that nothing of theirs could damage the crime scene.

"She was dead before she got here," Harry finally said.

"Yup," Ron agreed. "The Killing Curse, it looks like."

"So what is the body doing here?" Harry wondered. He began to probe around, found something. "There's another person… a child, under her! We've got to get her off."

"Oh, shit," Ron said again, trying to hold back the bile that was raising in the back of his throat.

"It's a good thing that she was positioned just like this, otherwise this little girl would be dead," Harry said, as they lifted the dead woman to find her baby. Thankfully, her little girl was still alive. Quickly, Harry scooped up the child and began to soothe it. 

"Whoever did this is a cold-hearted bastard," Ron announced.

Harry nodded in agreement. "Come on, we're going to need back up for this one."

"Why? I'll we've got to do is make a report, turn in the body, you know. If we bring anyone else in, Anna will really get scared."

"Don't you recognize her, Ron?"

Ron scrunched up his eyes, shook his head. "No, I don't."

"It's Cassandra." When Ron still looked blank, Harry shook his head. "Have you actually read Draco's file?"

"Of course! I'm primary of the investigative team that's trying to find him."

"So you would know about the woman who's been following Draco around for the past two years."

"Of course I know about her, but no one's actually _seen her." Harry sent him a look, and Ron bit his lip. "I take that back. Nobody's documented that they saw her."_

"Trust me, Ron. That's her. Draco calls her Cassandra." 


	2. Hashing It Out

A big thanks to Anne for beta'ing, even though she says that I'm one of her easy ones…

**Chapter Two: Hashing It Out**

"You know," Ron said conversationally, "they know that we're on the grounds. Don't you think it's a bit ridiculous to stand outside here?"

Ron and Harry were standing on Remus and Anna's front porch, babe in arms.

"No, it wouldn't be right to just barge in," Harry said.

"I think that, under the circumstances…"

"Harry. Ron." Anna looked a bit taken back. "You could have just come right in. What's going on?"

"I'm going to have to call for back-up," Ron told her, quite seriously. "Can I use your fireplace?"

"Of course," Anna said and then blinked. "There really was a baby. That poor thing. Hand her over. Where's her mummy?"

"Dead." Harry's voice was cold and hard as he said it.

"Oh, my goodness. Where? How?"

Remus appeared on the stairs, and with one look at the scene in front of him, made his way quickly down and was at his wife's side.

"What's going on?"

"I don't know just yet, dear. I was asking them the same question," Anna told him patiently.

"It's long and complicated," Harry said. "I'm not sure…"

"Back-up's on the way, Harry," Ron said, emerging from the lounge to join them in the main hall. 

"Good. That way I can tell this story once. Just once."

"I also sent for the girls."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "Why?"

"Because they need to be here. Draco Malfoy is still a threat to all of us. Besides, Hermione and Ginny would kill us if we left them out of this one, and I'm already in enough trouble with Hermione."

"I suppose you're right, but I'm the one who's going to be in trouble," he mumbled.

"Why?" Ron asked, interested.

"Because I just am," Harry said miserably. "I'll be lucky to make it home in one piece."

"I'm sure you didn't do anything too terrible," Anna said reassuringly.

Harry shook his head.  

"Here they come!"

Three men in black robes approached the house somewhat warily. They wore carefully blank expressions, and they looked the same to Remus. Brown hair, brown eyes… exactly, and perfectly, normal.

"Gentlemen," Ron addressed them as he opened the door. 

"Lieutenant Weasley, Officers Wayne, Davis, and Mitchell reporting for duty."

Ron very nearly rolled his eyes at the formality, but held back as Anna was looking very impressed.

"Lieutenant Weasley? When did that happen?"

Ron shrugged. "Oh, not too long ago."

"Why didn't you let us know?" Anna demanded. 

"Didn't seem really important, that's all."

Harry stuffed his hands in his pockets. "He got a field commendation for saving the life of a fellow officer under extreme circumstances, and was promoted right there."

"Harry," Ron said warningly.

"That officer was me," Harry finished.

"It's not a big deal," Ron said defensively.

"It is to me," Harry shot back.

"What's going on here?" Hermione and Ginny walked right through the door. It was Hermione who spoke, as Ginny rushed to Harry's arms immediately.

"You didn't tell me you were going on call," Ginny said, and poked a finger in Harry's chest. "Never in my life have I been so mad with you. You have to give me a proper chance to worry."

Harry grinned. "I was actually hoping to spare you some of that worry, dear."

"Nonsense," Ginny said with a toss of her head. "I deserve to know."

"You're right," Harry said finally. "You do. I'll tell you next time. If there is a next time."

"There'd better not be. You're retired. Once and for all, and it's about time someone took notice of that fact."

"Excuse me, Lieutenant Weasley. Can we get on with the report and the investigation?"

"Of course," Ron said, and visibly swallowed at the look Hermione shot him. Obviously, he hadn't told her, as well.

This was getting interesting, Anna thought. 

One of the three officers that Anna had taken to privately calling Huey, Dewy, and Louie, gave Ron a quill and a piece of parchment.

"_Verbatim_," Ron said with authority.

Harry cleared his throat and began to speak. The quill copied everything that the two said, and added some observations of its own.

"On the evening of 22nd August, Lieutenant Weasley received an emergency help call from Mr. and Mrs. Remus J. Lupin regarding unusual sounds on the property. Lieutenant Weasley responded and contacted Detective Potter, retired, and both officers preceded to the area the citizen was concerned about. After a thorough investigation of the area, Lieutenant Weasley and Detective Potter discovered the body of a female. It is as yet unknown whether said woman was a witch or a Muggle, but the cause of death is the Killing Curse."

Ron took over. "A further investigation of the body revealed that the woman was lying next to a child, who is still alive and in Lieutenant Weasley and Detective Potter's custody. 

"A search of the premises showed no signs of Death Eater activity, or any signs of anyone Apparating or Disapparating from the grounds. 

"After retrieving the child, Lieutenant Weasley and Detective Potter returned the house of Mr. and Mrs. Remus Lupin, and called for back-up. Said back-up arrived at twenty two fifty-six. 

"_Finite Incanatum."_

"Officers, if you would inspect the premises once again and seal the crime scene, Lieutenant Weasley and I have some business to attend to."

"Yes, sir!" 

Harry smiled at the young officer's enthusiasm. He had never been that excited about the job, but then, he'd been fighting Dark wizards from the time he was eleven. The shine had worn off for him by the time he'd been forced into service.

"You're dismissed."

One of the officers, the one on the far left, sneered at him. Harry was used to it. Some officers hadn't taken kindly to his early retirement, but he had ceased to care. Besides which, it wasn't like the department ever let him rest, anyway. When he wasn't playing Quidditch, he was helping clean up some mess for another officer. It was just like being on active duty, without having Ron as his partner.

"Officers," Harry said patiently, "that means you can leave."

Ron, who hadn't been looking at the three look-alikes, turned on his heel and glared. Even Hermione felt the chill.

"A superior officer just gave you a command, gentlemen," he said politely, but his tone was pure ice. "I suggest you follow it."

The youngest officer left quickly, and the other two followed him out at a much more relaxed pace.

"I ought to write them up," Ron mumbled.

"No, it's not worth it," Harry said, the fact that he was tired clearly showing in his voice. "I'm not on active duty anymore. It would just make things worse for me when I have to work for the department, anyway."

"We have to ask you two a few official questions," Ron said, shooting Harry a look that said there was much more that needed to be discussed.

"All right," Anna said. "Come on through to the kitchen. We'll have a sit down and a nice cup of tea."

It took just a little over an hour to get the Lupins' story straight and down on paper. When the officers brought pictures back of the body, neither one of the old professors recognized her.

Harry and Ron closed their on-scene immediate investigation at eleven thirty, and then it was time to have a more informal chat.

"Okay, spit it out, Harry," Ginny said, once the officers had left and the group was left alone in the kitchen.

"The woman's name," Harry started, "is Cassandra. She's an… acquaintance of Draco's. When Ron and I were doing our investigation of Malfoy's private affairs, her name came up quite a bit with the people we talked to."

"In all likelihood," Ron continued, "Cassandra isn't her real name. By this time, most of the Death Eaters had taken code names and the like to make it more difficult for the government, that is to say, us, to find them."

Harry nodded. "Right. Apparently she and Draco were having a bit of an affair."

Ginny raised her eyebrows. "The last I heard, Pansy and Draco had signed a marriage contract."

Harry shrugged. "That doesn't mean Draco meant to keep his vows."

"If I were Pansy I'd skin him alive," Ginny muttered. 

"I think Pansy knew what she was getting into when she agreed to marry him. According to our research, most Malfoys weren't really famous for their fidelity. More often, it was the direct opposite that gave them their reputation," Ron said, almost dismissively.

"Cassandra?" Anna asked to get the conversation back on track.

Harry nodded in acknowledgement. "Draco thought he was being discreet, but obviously he wasn't."

Ron grinned. "Obviously. All of our connections knew about her."

Hermione huffed, but didn't say anything.

"Well, there appeared to have been a bit of a disagreement among the ranks. It seems that some of the remaining Death Eaters didn't approve of their leader's choice in women."

"We think that this might be because she was a Muggle, or possibly even a Squib," Ron inserted.

"Right, but we actually don't know much about her. Other than she was a bit, um, depressing…"

"She kept predicting the defeat of the remaining Death Eaters."

Ginny bit her lip. "Do you think they killed her because of that?"

"It's unlikely. Other than Draco, none of the other Death Eaters are really bold. I can't imagine any of them using the Killing Curse and then advertising it like this."

"So, did Draco kill her?" Hermione asked, her excitement pushing her silence aside.

Ron seemed to ponder it a moment. "Well, according to the rumors that we heard, Malfoy was rather partial to her." 

"Yes, but those are rumors," Hermione said quickly. "What do you have that's fact?"

"Not much of anything," Ron admitted. "That's the frustrating part. We can't even prove conclusively that the woman they just hauled off to the morgue is Cassandra. Harry's the only one who could I.D. her."

"Why is that?" Ginny demanded.

"I'm the only one outside of the Death Eaters to have seen her."

There was a silence in the kitchen that was thick and heavy. 

"What?"

"When we entered Malfoy Manor, in your seventh year," Harry began. "I followed Malfoy's trail for a bit."

Even Ron blinked. 

"You didn't know either?" Ginny asked. "What were you thinking?"

Harry shrugged. "I wasn't thinking. I was young and stupid."

Ginny bit her lip to keep the scathing reply from falling off. "Then what happened?"

"I didn't find Malfoy," Harry said, "but I did find where he had been most recently, using a spell that follows the traces of a person's magical aura. It's a bit hush-hush."

Ginny nodded. She hadn't been in on the development of that spell, but she had heard of it. It wasn't really approved for use, even now. Unless the wizard using it was extremely talented, it was very unreliable.  
  


"And then?"

"Then I met Cassandra. Actually, it was more that I ran into her than anything else. She took one look at me and ran, but she dropped a note on the way out. It said, 'Cassandra, they're after me. Leave the Manor and meet at the prearranged spot.' Draco had signed it with his full name."

"It could have been anyone," Ginny broke in. "She could have been carrying the message to the real Cassandra."

"Draco isn't fond of compromising his security," Ron said. "That would have been a definite breach of security."

"So what about the child?"

"Well, about six months ago, the news got out that Cassandra had told Draco the good news. She was going to have a baby. His baby." Ron leaned forward on his elbows, getting in to telling the story.

"From here there are two split stories. The first is that he killed her and dumped the body somewhere. The second is that she had disappeared, and that not even Draco knew where she was."

"So it is possible that Draco killed her!" Hermione said and stood up.

"Possible. Anyway, in all likelihood, if that girl was Cassandra, that little girl is her daughter. If Cassandra was still alive, that little girl could only be a couple of weeks old."

Anna nodded. "She's still small. She could be that young."

Ginny noticed that Hermione and Ron were still carefully not looking at each other. 

"Oh, for goodness sake. We aren't going to find out anything just sitting here in the kitchen. It's too late for us to be thinking this hard, anyway. I'm taking my husband and going home."

Just then the doorbell rang.

"Don't answer it," Anna said firmly. "Remus Lupin, if you answer it, I will never forgive you."

"Department of Magical Law Enforcement! Open up!" The magically amplified voice shook the walls of the house.

Harry's head hit the kitchen counter. "Please, don't let it be her. For the love of all things holy, don't let it be her."

"Who?" Anna asked.

"I probably should answer it," Remus said, and got up to walk out to the foyer.

"It's disgusting how terribly Gryffindor he is sometimes," Anna mumbled. "You know, there are wards around our house to prevent this sort of thing."

"You might want to check out those wards," Harry commented as he rose, as well. "I can't imagine how anyone got the body onto the grounds without your security being raised, but I can't say that I'm comfortable with the wards right now."

"Weasley! Potter! Explain yourselves! What's going on?"

Harry and Ron looked at each other and groaned.

"I guess I don't get to go home after all," Harry muttered.

"I guess you don't," Ron agreed, and they went to greet their guest.

**

Come discuss TiF and Double Trouble with us at my Yahoo!Group, which is located here. 


	3. Commanding Presences

**Chapter Three: Commanding Presences**

"I flew twenty miles to get here from the base. I want your report and I want it now," said a tall, lanky woman with short blond hair that fell to just below her ears. She looked to be in her early forties, and she carried a sword in a holster on her hip. Other than Ron and Harry, no one else was quite sure who she was.

"Does anyone else feel like a three-year-old every time she enters the room?" Ron asked Harry, quite seriously.

"Me," Harry whispered back.

"No more whispering. Report!"

"Commander O'Reilly, we've already sent in the official document. If you want a report, read that." Ron sounded irritable and tired, but the woman wasn't about to give up.

"If I wanted to read the official report, I wouldn't have flown the twenty miles to get here." The commander's eyes were ice blue, and they pierced Ron's with what seemed like anger. In truth, she was sympathetic.

"Excuse me," Hermione broke in. "I'd like to know just who you are."

Ron grinned. Hermione could be wonderfully abrupt when she wanted or needed to be. 

"Commander Raina O'Reilly," she said, and Hermione was only faintly surprised by the accent that crept back into the older woman's voice when she pronounced her name. "And who are you?"

"Hermione Granger, soon to be Hermione Weasley," Hermione said, and her eyes sparkled with joy.

Ron couldn't contain his excitement either. So Hermione wasn't _that_ mad at him. She still wanted to go through with the wedding!

"Ah, I've been hearing of you, young lady. You're after changing the world, is it?"

Hermione blushed. "Just pieces."

"You might want to start in this corner, with your fiancé," Raina said, her eyes giving away her sense of mischief. "He's after needin' a bit of changing, methinks."

Shrugging, Hermione walked the short distance to stand next to Ron's side. "I'm thinking that he's perfect just the way he is."

Raina smiled. "Ah, 'tis young love."

"That's the best kind," Anna said as she leaned into Remus, his chest supporting her back.

"'Tis true," Raina agreed, and heaved a little Irish sigh.

"I'm Anna Lupin."

"Pleased to meet you," the commander said with a grin. "You're Potter's godmother, isn't it?"

"I have that honor," Anna said.

"It's more like a constant thorn in her foot," Harry mumbled to himself. "Ouch! You didn't have to elbow me, Ginny."

Raina ignored the couple's bantering. "I'm thinking that you must be Remus Lupin then," she said, and looked directly into Remus's eyes.

"That's my name," Remus said and winked.

Raina nodded in approval. "Well, Potter, aren't you going to introduce me to your wife?"

Harry grinned. "I like to keep her all to myself."

"You're still newlyweds, then? I thought so."

Ginny caught herself blushing, and stepped forward. "Ginny Potter."

The two women shook hands. 

"And how are your beautiful children? Potter's been showing the pictures when he comes into the department."

The famous Weasley blush only grew redder, and Ginny smiled. Her twin boys were now her favorite subjects of conversation, but she was well aware of most people's attention span when it came to other people's children.

"Do you have about a month?" she asked, making Raina laugh.

"Oh, not this minute, dear, but I'm thinking we could work something out. Nothing like a chat about the wee ones to brighten up the day, yes?"

Ginny nodded. "I'll keep that in mind."

"I still want that report, you two." 

Harry and Ron exchanged glances. Finally Ron spoke. "Is there a specific reason why you had to come and get the report directly from us, Commander? Off the record."

"I never said any of this." 

"Understood," both men said, and the others in the room nodded in agreement.

"The Department of Magical Law Enforcement thinks that the body you've found on your grounds belongs to a Death Eater supporter who goes by the name of Cassandra."

"Do they?" Harry sounded amused. "Now why would they think that?"

"Well, official reports of her…" The commander paused. "You don't need me to tell you any of this, do you?"

Harry shrugged and leaned against the wall. "No, not really. If you'd like to go through the formalities, of course, I could stand here for a while. I need a nap."

"Why don't you tell us something we don't already know, Commander?" Ron chose to lean forward on the kitchen counter, and looked the woman straight in the eyes. "How about treating us like we have a grain of sense in our brains?"

"Well, I'd be after doing that, if you did have a grain of sense. Why didn't you put any notation in your report?"  
  


"For complicated reasons," Harry said before Ron could open up his mouth. 

"Your arse could be on the line for this, Potter."

"If my arse isn't on the line every month or so, I feel like I've dropped behind."

"For Merlin's sake, don't be so flippant. As your commanding officer, I've got to know what's going on. This isn't about me being a woman, is it?"

Both Harry and Ron looked at the women they were lucky enough to be in intimate relationships with. They both erupted into laughter.

"If there is one valuable lesson we learned from Hogwarts and the years after," Ron said, "it's that women should never, never be underestimated."

"It's a shame Draco didn't know that," Harry muttered. "I'm sure his life would be a lot easier."

"Yeah, it's a bloody shame for him. It's damned lucky for us," Ron said. 

"It's got more to do with the fact that the less people that know, the better off we all are," Harry said. "It's certainly nothing personal."

"I want to know."'

"Harry," Ginny spoke up suddenly. "Tell her."

Harry whirled around and looked his wife straight in the eye. "What?"

"Tell her. Somebody in the department other than Ron has to know. In case…" She broke off, but Harry knew what she meant.

"While you do that, I'll put the baby down," Anna said and left.

So they told Raina the whole story, some of which she knew, most of which she didn't. She nodded, gasped, frowned, and smiled in all the appropriate spots.

"So Draco has resumed Dark activity," she said. "I'm not surprised a' tall. Welcome back, Anna."

"Thank you." 

Ron ignored them. "We're not certain that Draco is behind all of this."

"Well, we know for a fact that Draco was behind the attack of your wife and your friend, Potter. Why wouldn't he kill his mistress?"

"Because it just doesn't make sense. There was a reason Cassandra lasted as long as she did with the Death Eaters. We don't know how or why, but Draco managed to keep her alive this long. Only to kill her months later? I don't think so. That's not very logical," Ron argued.

Hermione, who was watching her fiancé very carefully, agreed. "Draco is extremely conniving, and he depends on the fact that his plans will work. Unless Cassandra had completed her purpose, I don't see why he would kill her."

"I say what I said earlier this evening," Ginny interrupted. "We're not going to be any help if only one of us can think clearly. I'm sorry, Commander, but we've been up quite a long time. I'm in desperate need of sleep, and the boys will be waking up in a few hours."

The commander nodded. "Point taken, Mrs. Potter. However--" she held up a finger when everyone made movements to leave "--there is one more point that needs to be discussed.

"What is that?" Harry nearly snapped.

" 'That' is what to do about the child that you and Ron found."

"Doesn't the Ministry have some place to put her?" Ron asked, a frown on his face. "It seems like there was an official orphanage a few years back for children whose parents were Death Eater victims."

"There was," Raina agreed, "but they don't want to take the child."

"Why not?" Harry stood up straight now. "What's wrong with her?"

"Her parents," Raina said with a shrug. "Death Eaters and all that."

"Oh, for goodness' sake! There's no way the public could know about that…" Ron exploded.  
  


"Well, you remember that blanket the baby was wrapped in, right?"   

Harry nodded. "What about it?"

"Well, it seems that none of you looked closely enough at it. It had one word embroidered on it."

"Yes?" Harry asked impatiently. 

" 'Malfoy'."

"Can they do that?" Anna asked. "Can they deny her the right to shelter and basic needs because she's a _Malfoy_?"

"In a word," Raina said with a shrug, "yes."

"That's ridiculous!" It was Anna's turn to be angry. "That's like denying Remus a job because he's a werewolf! Her parentage shouldn't make a bit of difference. It's like the War hit the wizarding world on the head. This sort of prejudice is just as bad as all that pureblood nonsense."

"I agree," Hermione said. "But it's perfectly legal, believe it or not."

"Well, what are we going to do about that poor child?" Ginny asked. "We need to make a decision quickly. I'll feel terrible if her fate is hanging in limbo."

Raina took a deep breath. "Actually, I was hoping one of you could take her."

Shock permeated the room, and the silence was deafening. "Well, don't everyone speak at once."

"Ron and I can't take her," Hermione said finally. "We aren't married yet, and we're not ready."

"I agree," Ron said.

"As much as it pains me to say this," Anna spoke up, "Remus is losing more and more of his strength as the years go on, and I am still having a negative reaction to the clairvoyant cells in my body. We'll both be lucky to see Orion reach twenty. I just don't think we could take on another one, knowing that we wouldn't live to see her come of age."

The rest of the group let that statement sink in for a while. It was a well known fact, but no one dared to speak of it most of the time.

"That leaves us," Ginny said.

"Yes, yes it does," Harry said, and shook his head. "We already have two around her age, Ginny."

Ginny nodded. "Is that a bad thing or a good thing?"

"I don't know," Harry said.

"Well, I don't either."

"I'm thinkin' that you two need to be after thinking about this," Raina interrupted. "But could you do a poor Irishwoman a favor and keep the babe overnight? I'll be after her in the morning."

Ginny and Harry looked at each other, silently debating. 

"We could take her," Ginny said finally.

"Good! I'll be back in a moment." Raina Disapparated with a pop.

"I'm sorry, Ginny. If there was some way I could take on a baby," Hermione started, but Ginny cut her off.

"We've always wanted a large family. It's just growing a bit quicker than we expected. Besides which, we haven't even decided to take her in."

"You two being who you are? I think you've already made up your mind, you just don't know it yet." 

"She's such a precious little girl," Ginny muttered. "So pretty and delicate."

Harry grinned and wrapped his arm around Ginny's waist to nuzzle her neck, a habit of his that was made easy by Ginny's short stature. 

"Not as pretty as you," he whispered.

"You really are tired," she whispered back. "You're embarrassing yourself willingly."

"Nope," he disagreed. "Just desperately in love with my wife."

"Well," Ginny said. "That's a good thing."

"'Tis," Harry imitated Raina. "'Tis a very good thing."

There was a popping sound, and then Raina was back in the room with them. "If you could just sign these papers the Ministry will let you take her for the night…"

"Actually," Ginny interrupted again, "we've decided to take her permanently."

"I had a fey feeling about that," Raina said with a grin. "So I brought those papers, too!"

"You take 'be prepared' to a whole new level, Commander," Anna said, the respect evident in her voice.

"My fey feelings are rarely wrong," Raina said so seriously that no one dared to laugh. The two real Seers in the room looked at each other and grinned.

"How often do you get these fey feelings?" Ginny asked curiously as Raina pulled several pieces of parchment from a briefcase and fished out two quills.

"Oh, every and now and again." Raina's tone was dismissive and she smiled at herself. "Don't be after teasing me, then."

"I wouldn't dream of it," Ginny protested. 

"If you could just sign here," Raina said and marked the correct lines.

"Be happy to," Harry said, and took a minute to read what he was signing, "after Hermione and Ron, our resident barristers, look over this."

Hermione and Ron leaned over the parchment together, and whispered a few sentences to each other, but for the most part, they didn't need to communicate verbally.

"Everything looks to be in order, Harry," Ron said finally. "The only thing that Hermione and I have concerns about is this naming clause."

"What's that?" Harry asked.

"Basically," Hermione tossed her head, "it says that though you're taking custody of her officially here, part of her name has to remain 'Malfoy' until her twelfth birthday. Then she can decide for herself what she wants to do."

"It's standard for most refuge children whose parentage we know of," Raina said.

Ginny sighed. "Well, that certainly makes it more complicated for our little girl."

"Is there any way to get around it?" Harry wanted to know.

"No, I'm afraid not," Hermione said after she read over the document again. "It's binding, almost concrete, really."

"She doesn't have to sign her name that way," Ron said, "but her legal name has to be Malfoy, or even Malfoy-Potter."

"I want part of her legal name to be Potter," Harry said firmly.

"I agree," Ginny said.

"Malfoy-Potter it is, then," Ron said. "Just specify that here… well, I suppose I can do that…"

After about an hour of filling out forms, Jessica Anne Malfoy-Potter was theirs.

**

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	4. Granger and Weasley

_This was a hard chapter for me to write, emotionally, as I've never been in the situation I've put Hermione in. I apologize for the delay, but I wanted to take the time to do this right._

_By the way, there's a blatantly obvious Monty Python reference in here. If you spot it, I'll give you a cookie!_

Chapter Four: Granger and Weasley

Hermione sat in her hotel room, trying to force imaginary tangles out of her hair with fierce, angry strokes of a wide brush. Ronald Weasley, no, _Lieutenant _Ronald Weasley was in very big trouble. 

_What's the real problem here?_ That thought gave her pause. What _was the real problem? She had been irritated at him earlier in the evening, and for what could be considered silly reasons. After all, it was partially her fault that they couldn't see each other as often as they used to, and it was also partially her fault that the communication between them had broken down to the point where it was almost nonexistent._

_He didn't tell me about his promotion_. That was true, but he hadn't told anyone else. Ron had infamously low self-esteem, but it hurt Hermione that he hadn't at least left her clues that something big had happened. _Or had he?_ Hermione struggled desperately, reviewing memories of the past few months. No, he hadn't said anything that would suggest something of this magnitude had happened to him.

_Maybe that was because it wasn't such a big deal to him._ Why wouldn't it be a big deal? Hermione thought that Ron loved his job. _You think, but do you know?_

Frustrated, she laid down the brush and wiped her eyes to try and clear the fatigue from them. Her head was beginning to pound in a way that could only be brought on by Ron.

_You could try to talk to him._ That she could do, but would Ron be ready to talk after a night like tonight? Would he want to talk to her, knowing that she had passed up possibly the only chance that they would have to have children without consulting him?

You're in no shape to have taken in that little girl. You know that and Ron knows that. You also know that Ron loves you, even though you can't have the kind of family you'd imagined having.

In a now familiar gesture of hopelessness, Hermione laid a hand on her abdomen. Not being able to have children was like a constant ache in her heart. Before the medi-wizards had told her that she could never have them, she'd never thought about it. The old cliché "you won't miss it until it's gone" certainly applied in this case.

Shaking her head to try and force out all the unhappy thoughts out, Hermione rose to her feet and walked over to the bed. She was about to give up all hope of having an easy night of rest when there was a knock on the door.

"Yes?"

"Hermione, it's me."

The sound of Ron's voice made her paused. "Yes, of course. Come in."

He came through the door then, looking apologetic and somewhat confused. The sight made her heart melt, as usual. She definitely had a soft spot in her heart for Ron Weasley.

"Are you mad at me?"

He really was confused, Hermione realized. Oh well, that wasn't anything new. Ron was unusually thick when it came to relationships, but Hermione really hated to have to explain her complicated feelings when she didn't understand them herself.

"I don't know, Ron."

"I had a feeling it was something like that. Can I sit next to you?"

Hermione blushed a little bit. The first time they'd kissed, Ron had asked her that question, and she gave him the same answer she did then. "Of course you can sit next to me."

"Hermione, I… I don't know what to say."

"How about you start off by explaining to me why you didn't tell me about your promotion?"  
  


"It just, wasn't important, I guess. Ginny was about ready to give birth to James and Mick any day, and Harry was worried about her. They called him in for an emergency mission, and he got partnered up with me. He wasn't paying attention, made a few mistakes…"  
  


"You saved his life. That's what Harry says."

Ron laughed humorlessly. "Harry has a talent for getting out of life-threatening situations. I just spared him the trouble."

Hermione licked her lips a bit nervously. "I wish you'd told me about it sooner, but I really am very proud of you. You've earned it."

Ron turned away from her. "I was just doing my job. They could have given that promotion to someone who wanted it."

"You didn't want to be promoted?" Hermione was shocked. "I thought you liked your job."

"I do." Ron sighed. "Well, most of the time, anyway. I _liked working the beat, and I thought it was all right when they promoted me to detective, but I just didn't think I was ready for lieutenant. If I done the same thing for anybody else, I don't think they would have given me the honor." _

"Ron, they wouldn't have given you the promotion if you didn't deserve it. Harry had nothing to do with it." 

Her eyes were like magnets, and Ron couldn't help but look at her. "I can't walk in a straight line anymore, Hermione. What good will I be to the department?"

Hermione shook her head. She was better at understanding the useless feeling that he had now than she ever was, but that didn't mean it was right.

"You're better at strategy than you ever at actually using the spells, Ron. The department will finally be able to use you for what you're best at. Besides, I saw you tonight. All of the other officers obviously respect you. You're brilliant, Ron."

"At least you believe in me."

"I always have."

There was a pause in their conversation.

"So, do you want to tell me why you're still upset?" 

That astute observation caught Hermione off guard. "What?"

"You're still not happy."

"Maybe that's because you haven't kissed me yet."

He leaned over and touched his lips to hers, just a gentle brush, leaving her aching for more. "Now, are you going to tell me what's wrong?"

She sighed. "Ron, I… I want to have a baby."

"Right now?" he asked, his voice teasing, but then he got serious as he realized that she was really distressed. "Hermione, love, there's all sorts of options for us."

"I know, but _I_ want to have a baby. How selfish is that?"

"It's perfectly natural, Hermione. Come here, love."

She crawled over to sit half in his lap, half out of it, while his arms crept around her, creating a barrier between her and the real world.

"Now Ginny has three, and I don't want to feel jealous, honestly I don't, but I can't help but get this little twinge every time she holds one of the twins in her arms, and they look up at her, and she looks back, and…"

"Shush." He began to rock her back and forth. "I love you, Hermione."

"I love you, Ron."

"It's been a while since they diagnosed you. You could go back and see if there isn't some kind of treatment, if it means that much to you."

Hermione nodded. "I'm scared that they'll tell me that there's nothing they can do for me, that I'll never be a mother, and the nurses will get this look in their eyes…" 

"You've never let being afraid stop you before. If it helps, I'll go with you. We could always try the Muggle doctors, you know. They might have something that we don't."

Hermione's eyes lit up. "I know that this sounds silly, but I think that would help, if I felt like we were facing this together."

"We've always faced the world together," Ron said. "We always will."

"One more month," Hermione said on a sigh. "Mrs. Hermione Weasley. How do you like that?"

Ron grinned. "Very much. That's why I asked you to change your name."

"There's a bit more to it than that," Hermione began, but Ron cut her off.

"No, I've always known I'd love you forever and all that. This is just a formality."

Fighting to keep back the tears in her eyes, Hermione thought that Ron may not be the most eloquent man she knew, but he certainly knew what to say to make her feel wonderful again.

The tender moment was interrupted by a sharp voice. "Granger, Weasley, open up!"

Ron immediately jumped up and drew his wand. "Who's there? Identify yourself!"

"I think I'll pass," said an arrogant, upper crust voice. "Just open the door."

Hermione rose as well, standing behind Ron, as he had more defense training than she did. "We're not opening the door until we know who you are."

"I'm surprised that you don't recognize me. In fact, I may be insulted."

"Damn it, man, if you want us to open the door, you'd better identify yourself!"

"Draco Malfoy."

Ron growled. "You're not coming in, I'm coming out. Then you're going to be under arrest."

They could hear the laugh through the door. "I'd love to give you the pleasure, Weasley, but I don't think that would do you much good. You see, in about five minutes, I'm going to be dead."

"I don't think so," Hermione yelled. "That's an old and dirty trick, Malfoy!"

"Funny how when it's the truth no one believes you," Malfoy grumbled. "Look, I'm your only prayer of finding out who killed Cassandra and why."

"Open the door, then. Slowly," Ron instructed.

"Ron! What are you doing?" Hermione hissed.

"I'm interrogating a witness," he hissed back. "Just trust me on this one."

The door creaked open, and Draco was immediately hit with a Full Body Bind. 

"Drag him over to that chair," Ron instructed.

A charm later, and Draco was securely tied so with his wand removed from his person. 

"Wow, that was quick." There was pure admiration in Hermione's voice, and Ron preened just a little bit.

"Yes, I know. I'm good. Get ready. He's coming out of it now."

"Temporary Body Bind Curse," Hermione muttered. "I haven't read about that one…"

"Granger. Weasley," Draco sneered. "Not the people I'd hoped to welcome me to hell, but strangely fitting, I suppose."

"Quaint, Malfoy," Ron snapped. "You're not dead yet."

"Well, that's disappointing."

"If you're really dying," Hermione interrupted, "don't you think you could get to the important stuff instead of playing 'Macho Man' with Ron?"

"I want to know what you know about Cassandra."

Ron raised an eyebrow. "I don't know anything about Cassandra."

"You're lying," Draco drawled lazily. "I really don't have time for this, Weasley."

"I know that she's five foot eight, she's got brown hair, blue eyes and she gave birth to a little girl approximately two and a half weeks ago. I also know that little girl she had is yours. I know that she's dead. She's probably been in that state for a week. Somebody planted her in Professor Lupin's yard. What more do I need to know, Malfoy?"

Draco narrowed his eyes. "Ah. So you don't know any more about her death than I do."

"I had assumed that you did it," Ron said. "It's not like you haven't done it before. Do you want me to start naming names?"

Draco smiled thinly. "As it would most likely be an incomplete list, I don't think that that will be necessary, thank you."

"What does Pansy think of all this?" Hermione asked, watching for any sort of reaction from the now paling Malfoy.

"Pansy has all the money the Malfoy fortune could offer her, and she's carrying my child. What more could she want?"

"She doesn't know?" Hermione was amazed that anyone could miss an affair of the magnitude that Draco and Cassandra's had apparently been.

"She chooses not to see," Draco corrected harshly. "That's what her mother did, that's what my mother did. That's the way the wizarding world works, Granger. When your time comes, you'll look the other way as well."

Ron glared icily at Draco. "She won't have to look the other way. My father raised me better than that."

"Lucky you," Draco muttered sarcastically. "All that money never turned your father's head, I see."

Hermione dived in between the two men, breaking up any fight that would have started at this point. It wouldn't have been much of one, as Draco was still tied up, but still, they needed information out of Draco.

"Why are you dying, then?" Hermione demanded.

"I'm dying because I'm sick, Granger. If you'll recall from all of those books you're always reading, disease still impacts the wizarding world negatively."

Instinctively, Hermione took a step back. "Are you contagious?"

Draco laughed, but the sound held no warmth. "No, Granger, I'm afraid I'm past that point."

"Why did you come here then?" Ron asked sharply. "You haven't done either one of us a bit of good."

"I came here because you and your girlfriend and Potter are the only ones who can work out who killed Cassandra."

"Was she that important?" Hermione asked, the doubt evident in her voice.

"Not to me," Draco said, and left it there. It took Hermione slightly aback that he could use that tone of voice when talking about the woman who'd had his child, but then, nothing should really startle her about Draco.

"She kept telling everyone that the Death Eaters were on a path to self destruction," Ron pressed. "Do you think someone killed her because of that?"

Draco half-smiled. "Weasley, you really should complete your research better. No one, not even I, chose to believe her when she told us that defeat was on its way." 

"Do you now?" Hermione asked, realizing what Draco had just said.

"I don't know that that's any of your business, Granger."

"Is this disease what's killing the Death Eaters before the Department of Magical Law Enforcement can get to them?"

"Ten points to Gryffindor, Granger," Draco said sarcastically.

"What is it?" Hermione continued, ignoring him.

"We don't know," Draco admitted. "If we did, I damn well wouldn't be here."

"Are you here for yourself or for Cassandra?" Hermione asked again.

"A bit of both. Look, all I know is Voldemort wanted her around for some plot of his. She was really important to someone."

"Someone? That's a bit vague, Malfoy," Ron said.

"It's the best I can give you, Weasley."

"What did Voldemort want her for?"  
  


"I don't know."

"You sure don't know a lot, Malfoy," Ron said, coming around the back of his chair. "And I'm beginning to wonder if this disease of yours isn't just a ruse. I'm wondering if more of your friends won't be coming through that door any minute now."

Malfoy sneered. "Life is full of risks, Weasley."

"Yeah, well, I'm not too fond of taking ones that I don't need," Ron shot back.

"That's too bad," Malfoy panted, his face losing more and more color. "Because…"

Then his head dropped to the side, and he was dead.  

"Damn it!" Ron shouted. "It's just like the bastard to die right when we were getting somewhere…"

**  
  


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	5. Jessica, James and Mick

We jump ahead in time eleven years.

Chapter Five: Jessica, James, and Mick

"Boys," the little girl murmured to herself as she surveyed the damage her two brothers had done to her room. "I'm gone for two and a half minutes, and they have to come in here, doing heaven only knows what… and they didn't even ask me to come play!"

Her hair was blonde, and on this particular morning, the morning of September 1st, she had braided it so that it laid nicely down the center of her back. Her new Hogwarts robes were pressed and cleaned, with no stains on them to speak of, which would probably soon change. The night before, she and her mother had taken the time to paint her nails a pretty light blue that matched her eyes.

Her name was Jessica Anna Malfoy-Potter, and today was her first day of wizarding school. 

She had packed carefully the night before, arranging everything so that nothing would be crushed or broken. Butterflies were turning happy somersaults in her stomach, and she wished for a fleeting moment that she could remain at home for just one more year with her mum and dad, but she was eleven years old. Hogwarts awaited her.

"Jess?" Her father's voice came from outside of her door, and she lifted her head up from the spot she'd been studying on the windowsill. "Can I come in?"

"Of course, Dad." She didn't have any locks or wards guarding her door, at least, not yet.

It seemed that to the rest of the wizarding world, her father was a name, a figure. Harry Potter meant life, meant victory, meant hope for the wizarding world. To Jessica, he meant stability, warmth, love, and kindness. He wasn't her biological father, but he was her father, as far as they both were concerned. She had been born so close to the twins, Jamie and Mick, that the family had taken to calling them "the triplets."

"Are you nervous?" he asked, and lay back on her bed. She sighed and stretched out beside him.

"Absolutely not," she lied, and knew that she wasn't fooling her father.

"I see," said Harry. "Not nervous at all?"

"Not a bit," she reaffirmed, then changed her mind. "Okay, so I'm a bit nervous."

"I thought so," Harry said over a laugh. "You're your mother's daughter."

He meant, of course, his wife, Ginny Potter. To anyone else that knew their family, this conversation would have been a bit confusing.

"What's it really like, Dad?"

A smile lit up Harry's face. "I liked it. Then again, anything was better than the Dursleys'."

"I'd think so. They sound like awful people."

"They are," Harry deadpanned, and Jessica giggled. "I spend my time with much less awful people now."

"I don't know," Jessica teased. "Jamie and Mick can be pretty awful sometimes."

"Back to Hogwarts," Harry said firmly. "What are you worried about most?"

"Sorting. I don't want to be in Slytherin."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "I didn't want to be either. Did I ever tell you that the Sorting Hat thought that I would make a good Slytherin?"

How could she voice what she really thought? After all, her biological father had been in Slytherin; his whole family had been for ages, and Harry's family had not. Why wouldn't she be, even though she desperately wished not to be?

"It's our choices, Jessica, not our breeding, that decide where you are placed in the Sorting Ceremony."

Startled, she looked over at her father. It was uncanny how he could know what she was thinking sometimes.

"If you say so," she managed to whisper.

Harry grinned. "I know so."

"Dad?"

"Yes, pumpkin?"

"Are you going to miss me?"

"Every single hour of every single day."

"Good, because I'm going to miss you."

"I'm only an owl away, dear."

"It won't be the same as having you and Mum around."

"At least you'll have Jamie and Mick," Harry said, trying to be comforting. He had never really understood homesickness until just after his first year, when Hogwarts had become his home. Thankfully, he didn't think his children really ever knew how horrible his childhood with Dursleys had been. How could they, when they had had such wonderful early years themselves? That was the way he'd wanted it, though.

"I will," Jessica said bravely. "Mum says I could make some new friends, too."

"Speaking of Jamie and Mick, why aren't you with them? Usually you're attached at the hip."

His only daughter shook her head. "I just wanted to be alone for a while, that's all."

"Well, then, I'll leave you to it."

"Dad?"

Harry paused on his way out of the door. "Yes, pumpkin?"

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

As Harry entered the corridor, he heard the sob of a baby. Smiling, he went towards the nursery. There in the crib lay Arthur, his youngest son. He was one of the few of the Potter brood that had black hair, though it was much more cooperative than his father's. Harry bent at the waist and picked up the crying child.

A quick inspection of the situation told him that Arthur most definitely wanted his nappy changed, so he set about that task, humming to himself.

"Harry?"

He turned, and saw Ginny, the mother of his six children. "There you are, love."

"Soiled nappy?"

"Just wet," Harry said with a shrug. "Not a big deal."

"Why don't you hand him over to me?"

"Sure, you take him after I've done the dirty work."

"Damn straight," she said, and they both laughed. "I thought I saw you in Jessica's room."

"Then you thought right."

So Harry was going to make her fish for this one, Ginny thought. Well, that always made it more interesting.

"What did you talk about?"

"Oh, nothing in particular," Harry shrugged again. "Just the usual stuff."

"You talked about the usual stuff on her first day at Hogwarts?"

"Today's her first day?" 

Ginny knew Harry was only pretending to be clueless, so she shot him a look. "You know that, Harry Potter. Now, what did you talk about?" 

"You're being awfully nosy," he retorted. "Maybe I don't want to talk. Perhaps you could persuade me?"

Rising up on her tiptoes, she planted a kiss on his nose. "Talk."

"Well, she's going to miss us," he said, drawing out the words reluctantly.

In spite of herself, Ginny felt tears well up in her eyes. "And?"

"I've run out of a reason to talk."

"Oh, for goodness sake." Again, she rose on her tiptoes and kissed him lightly on the cheek, twice.

"She thinks she's going to be in Slytherin," he said.

"What? That's absolutely ridiculous."

Harry shrugged. "She thinks that because Draco was a Slytherin it must be in the genes, or something."

"She's our child," Ginny said fiercely. "She's always been our child. Anyone who dares to tell her she's not a Potter will face my wrath."

"We both know that's true." Harry forced himself to avoid the memory of the night he had found Jessica, in that basket beneath her mother's death-frozen body. "Somebody meant to kill her, I'm sure of it."

Eleven years had passed, and though Ron spent every spare minute he had on it, no real developments had been made in the case. Despite Draco's warning, no other Death Eaters or wizards had died of the same "disease" he said he'd had.

So, Harry, Ron, Ginny and Hermione had all arrived at their own conclusions.

"She's not a pureblood," Ginny acknowledged, her voice laden with disgust. "It makes me sick."

Harry nodded. "It makes us both sick."

The sound of feet running through the hallway alerted them to the nearby presence of their male children, who had the combined gracefulness of a herd of drunken elephants.

"We're all packed, Mum," Jamie told her.

"We've double checked everything on your list."

"Did you make room for the pack that Uncle Fred and Uncle George sent you last week?" Harry asked.

"Yep…" Then Mick caught himself. The mischief making kit was supposed to be a secret. "Uh, what pack?"

Jamie rolled his eyes. "A bit late for that, Mick."

Although her twins were identical except for hair coloring, Ginny knew that had two very distinct personalities. James Brian Potter, the twin with red hair, was the more outgoing and quick-witted of the two, while Michael Albus Potter, the twin with black hair, thought of things in a more thought out, slow, sort of way. He was chronically shy, and most of the time allowed Jamie to do his talking for him. The only exception was among family, where Mick and Jamie fought for attention.

Just then, Jessica entered the room, and the boys separated to make room for her in their little line.

"Is it almost time to go?" she asked in that quiet voice that would later demand respect.

"Almost," Ginny said. She tried to hide the tears welling up in her eyes, but she couldn't help it. It was very emotional, watching her three oldest go off to Hogwarts for the first time. Knowing that her mother had gone through six first days made Ginny respect Molly all the more.

"Blimey, Mum. You're not going to cry, are you?" Jamie stuffed his hands in his pockets. He never knew what do when his mum cried.

"I don't think so," Ginny whispered.

Jessica smiled. "I'm ready to go. How about you two?"

"Yes," they chorused.

"We'd better get going, Ginny dear, or we'll miss the train."

Nodding, Ginny wiped her eyes. "Get your supplies. Dad's borrowed the flying car. We're going to the station in style."

The children let out a whoop of excitement, and raced off towards their rooms.

"Jamie! Mick!"

The two boys stopped at the sound of their mother's voice. "Yes, Mum?"

"Be sure to leave that package sitting on your bed."

"Mum!" Jamie protested.

Jessica shook her head at the two of them, and the protests ceased. Most likely she had a plan to cause more trouble than that kit contained. Oh well. Ginny was only asking for the kit to keep up the pretense that she was a responsible parent. In truth, she couldn't wait to her about the exploits her children would get into.

Perfectly safe, non-life threatening exploits.

She snorted. With a father like theirs, that might be a bit too much to ask for.

It seemed like hours later, they were piled in the car, driving towards King's Cross. The car was filled with noise and laughter. One of the wonderful things about the Potter family was its ability to have at least six different conversations going at once, with everyone participating in two or three.

Today the talk centered around Hogwarts, with Harry and Ginny reminiscing, and Jamie, Mick, and Jessica plotting, and the younger two, Matthew and Joseph, longing to go. Arthur sat in his car seat and babbled happily to no one.

"What'd you like best about Hogwarts, Dad?" Mick asked.

Harry grinned. "Your mother."

The entire car groaned. 

"Before you liked girls, we mean," Jamie corrected.

"Well, now, your Uncle Ron liked the food, and your Aunt Hermione liked the books and the school work, but I liked Quidditch."

"Who doesn't like Quidditch?" Jamie asked, sincerely confused.

"Oh, some witches and wizards," Harry said dismissively. "But Quidditch was a new thing for me, you see. I didn't even think brooms could fly."

Since this was Matthew and Joseph's first time hearing the story, they asked the first question. 

"How could you not know that brooms could fly?" 

"I lived with Muggles, remember?"

"Yeah, I remember that," Matthew said. "Because Grandma and Grandpa Potter were killed by that bad bloke and you didn't have anybody else."  
  


Joseph's eyes widened. He knew the story, of course, but he couldn't imagine not having parents. "You didn't have a Mum or Dad?"

Harry shook his head. "I had an aunt and an uncle, instead."

Ginny very nearly growled. "Some foster parents they were," she muttered under her breath.

"Down, love." 

"Do the staircases really move?" Matthew asked.

"Yes, of course," Ginny answered lightly. "You don't think they're going to sit there all day, do you? It'd be kind of boring, don't you think?"

Matthew nodded philosophically. "I guess it would be."

"I can't wait until I get to go," Joseph muttered.

"It's not that far off," Ginny reassured him. "Only four years."

"It might as well be forever," he said.

Jessica nearly laughed. She remembered feeling the same way. "I can't wait to hear the hat sing."

"I can't wait for the welcoming feast," Jamie countered.

"That's all you ever think about. Your stomach."

Jamie shrugged. "Well, it demands my attention."

Mick grinned. "I can't wait to meet the ghosts. I wonder if Sir Nicholas will take off his head for us. That'd be way cool."

"It doesn't come all the way off," Ginny cautioned. "He was only partially beheaded."

"Gross!" The comment sounded more like a compliment than anything else to Ginny.

Jessica just rolled her eyes, because she was above such things.

"Look, there's King's Cross!" 

They pulled into the station and parked. Ginny quickly mobilized her troops into an organized mob, and they took off towards Platform 9 ¾.  

**

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	6. Sirius Situation

Once again, I'm sorry for the delay, but I'm afraid the one chapter every two days or so goal I had set for myself is a bit unrealistic. School has started, so one every week would be a good estimate.

**Chapter Six:**

Sirius was not feeling well at all. There was a pounding in his brain that refused to go away, and his muscles were having spasms. He needed to get to help, and quickly, he knew, but he couldn't force his body out of bed.

Through the haze of his illness, he saw his Port-Floo, a recent invention by the Weasley twins that allowed for more portable communication between wizards, sitting on his desk. It was essentially a lighter with a Floo powder loader, but they sold for ridiculous amounts of money that varied with the style and color the consumer wanted. Sometimes it was good to be personally acquainted with the Weasley family, as Sirius had received a major discount.

He reached for it, and whispered "R. Weasley" into the receiving end. It only took a minute for Hermione to pick up.

"Hello, Weasley residence," she said, smiling charmingly, although all that one could see through the tiny flame was her mouth. In the distance, Sirius could hear one of Ron and Hermione's two children babbling. After two years of searching and tests and heartbreaks, thanks to artificial insemination, Hermione was finally able to have kids, and Ron couldn't have been happier.

"Hermione, it's me, Sirius."

"Oh, my goodness. You don't sound well. What's wrong?"

"I don't know, Hermione. Listen, can someone, anyone really, come and pick me up? I think I'm going to have to go to a medi-wizard for this one, and I can't trust myself to Apparate, Floo, or even fly over to the healer's office." Sirius didn't mention that the doctor in the town was deathly afraid of him, and probably wouldn't treat him.

"I'll send Ron over there as quickly as possible. He's at work, but it probably won't take long. I'd come and get you myself, but Miranda and Charlie are eating breakfast, and…"

 "I understand, Hermione." Sirius closed his eyes and fought the urge to sleep. Somehow he knew it was important not to lose consciousness.

"I wish there was some way…"

"Just call Ron, Hermione. Hurry, I can't stay awake much longer." 

When Sirius closed the flap on his Port-Floo, Hermione immediately changed over to Ron's personal line.

"Captain Weasley here."

"Ron, you've got to hurry. There's an emergency."

"At home?" he asked, slightly panicked. 

"No, no, Sirius just called me. He's ill, or something. He can't get out of his bed."

Ron cursed softly. "Damn. He's been working too hard. It's the first day of the school term, too. He's got a class to teach."

"I know," Hermione whispered in agreement. "It's really going to upset him that he can't be there, but Ron, he just didn't sound good at all."

"I'll take off right now."

"Port-Floo me if anything goes wrong, okay?" 

"I will," Ron assured her. "I love you."

"I love you too." With that, Hermione hung up.

Ron took a deep breath and threw his crutches behind his desk.

"I'm taking off, O'Reilly," Ron shouted as he ran towards the unwarded section of the department so that he could Apparate to Sirius's home in Whistleshire, a wizarding town. 

"What's wrong?" Raina asked, running out of her office. "Family emergency?"

"Yes, you could say that," Ron called back.

"State the emergency, Weasley," she said, matching his pace.

"An old friend of the family isn't feeling well and can't get out of bed."

"Well, good heavens," Raina muttered. "Is he or she older?"

"No," Ron said shortly. "He's probably what some people would call middle-aged, but it seems like he just now got to start living his life."

"Who is it?"

"Sirius Black."

The name made her stop, but Ron did not. He kept moving at the fast and furious pace he had set for himself. He didn't care if everyone knew about his association with the ex-fugitive. It shouldn't matter, because everyone knew now that Peter was the one responsible for the Potters' deaths.

"You're going to go see Sirius Black?" Raina demanded again when she caught up.

"Yes, Commander," Ron said, his impatience showing through in his eyes. "Here's the Apparition point. I'll fill out a form explaining everything when I get back."  
  


"If you say that he's ill, perhaps I ought to go with you," Raina said suddenly. "I have a feeling that something deeper is going on here."

"Like what?" Ron asked.

"I'll not say anything until I have more than a fey feeling," Raina said firmly. "Now, let's go."

"Sirius!" Ron shouted at the door of his old professor's house once they arrived. "I'm coming in."

"He's probably unconscious," Raina said. "We'll have to move quickly."

"Right," Ron agreed, and his worry grew larger when all it took to open the door was a simple unlocking spell.

"Does he normally leave his door unwarded like that?" Raina asked.

"No," Ron said as they headed toward Sirius's bedroom. "He's very anal about his security. He has to be, you know. Some people still don't believe he's innocent."

Raina said nothing, and even held back a little when they discovered Sirius lying face down on the bed.

"He's alive," Ron said after checking his pulse. "But just barely."

"We've got to get him to St. Mungo's," Raina insisted. "I've got an emergency Portkey on me."

"You carry an emergency Portkey with you?" Ron asked. "That must be a bear to explain to the budget people."

"As the Commander of Magical Law Enforcement, I'm entitled to certain rights. Like privacy and yes, even safety."

Ron nodded. "You're going to have to help me lift him. He's a heavy bloke."

"All right," Raina said. "I've got his upper body."

They didn't speak anymore as they lifted Sirius's body together. Carrying him like this eased the burden on both of them, but the real reason they were sharing the load was Ron's legs.

As time passed, his limp only grew worse. One night, he had collapsed after an investigation, and from then on, he was forced to walk with crutches most of the day. The limitation of his freedom annoyed Ron, but kept Hermione happy. Besides, without them, he would probably lose the use of his lower body all together.

With a touch of her hand to the Portkey, Raina, Ron and Sirius were all transported to St. Mungo's.

"What's going on?" The lady at the front desk was obviously confused. "You're not supposed to be able to…"

"Magical Law Enforcement," Raina snapped. "I'm supposed to be able to Portkey in here. I've got a patient who needs immediate care."

The witch nodded, and seconds later a time of medi-wizards came out.

"Get out of the way," one of them said sharply to Ron. "We'll take it from here."

"Boris," the other warned. "Watch it."

"Just get him taken care of," Ron interrupted, and watched with relief as they carried him by stretcher to another room.

"You've done all you can do," Raina whispered to him when he settled down heavily into a chair.

Ron sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "He's a great bloke, you know."

Raina lifted her eyebrows. "Really?"

"A lot of people don't take the time to get to know him, because of the whole ex-fugitive thing, but Sirius Black is one of the best men I know."

Cupping her chin in her hands, Raina sat down to listen. It was rare to hear Ron speak like this. Apparently he did so a lot in the company of his wife, but he tended to be tight-lipped and quick with his commander.

"He never gave up on Hermione and I having kids. You remember, we had the hardest time," he continued, and Raina nodded. "Well, Sirius would come over at odd moments when Hermione was down and cheer her up. He has this… I don't know, energy, that makes you think anything is possible."

"I know people like that," Raina whispered in agreement.

"Sirius is the only father Harry ever knew," Ron said. "Heaven help me if anything happens to Sirius while I was there."

"They're that close?" Raina asked.

"Oh, yes," Ron said and closed his eyes. "I suppose I have to tell him now."

"Don't you dare get up out of that seat, Ronald Weasley." 

The voice across the hospital lobby was firm, logical, and in control. It was Hermione.

"Hermione!" He nearly rose to his feet, but at the look in her eye, settled for waiting until she came to him.

"I see you don't have your crutches with you. Have you been walking without them again?"

Ron shrugged. "It was Sirius's life or my legs. I went with Sirius."

Hermione's face paled. "Was it really that bad?"

"He was unconscious when I got to him," Ron said, and sighed. "Now I have to call Harry."

"I'll do it," Hermione said. "I mean, I'll talk to Ginny, and then I'll talk to Harry. She'll take care of Harry until they can get to the hospital."

"This is September 1st," Raina reminded them. "Harry and Ginny are probably dropping off the triple terror triplets."  
  


Ron grinned at the mention of his niece and nephews. "Yes, they are."

"The train leaves soon. We'll call them afterwards," Hermione decided. "There's no reason to ruin Jessica, Jamie and Mick's day unless we absolutely have to."

"They're going to work out something's wrong when Sirius isn't there at the head table," Ron said.

"I know," Hermione agreed, "but we can send them an owl once we know more information. It's important that they go to school with the rest of the children."

"Why?" Ron asked densely.

"So that the other first-years won't feel like the Potter children are going to get special treatment or any other such nonsense because of their father," Hermione explained.

"Like Harry would ever let that happen," Ron huffed.

"You know that, and I know that, but there are still some people out there…" Hermione's voice trailed off.

"I know," Ron said. "I don't know why they can't just let Harry be."

Hermione sighed. "You know, Ginny thinks she might be pregnant again."

"What?" Ron was quite honestly shocked. "I thought they'd stopped."

Hermione laughed. "They did too."

"It's those Weasley genes," Raina said with a grin. "You're prolific, the lot of ya."

"Merely insuring there will always be Weasleys in the wizarding world," Ron said, as he always said when that particular comment came up.

Hermione smiled and blushed a little. Raina caught it, and narrowed her eyes. Yes, the girl was glowing.

"Do they ever stop?" she thought to herself.

"This O'Reilly girl is going to go back to the office. I'm after getting some work done. Weasley, you'll be letting me know the verdict, right?"

"Yes."

As she walked off, Raina could hear Ron and Hermione talking.

"I've always liked her," Hermione said.

"She's a good officer," Ron said shortly, and that made Raina blush and pause a moment. Compliments from Ron Weasley and Harry Potter were few and far between, and were usually reserved for each other, not other officers.

Shaking her head and muttering something about being an old woman, Raina left the building without meeting Sirius Black.

**

"So," a voice hissed, "it has begun. The true test of good versus evil."

"Yes master," another answered, "the children begin their journey to school today without the guidance of Sirius Black."

Sneering, the first voice nodded. "Sneaky low-life bastard." 

"Yes, master."

"Only time will tell if the Potter children are worthy of their name," the first voice continued. "Perhaps the girl child, the Malfoy, could be persuaded to join our side in the future."

"All in good time, master."

"Time," the first voice answered, "is something I'm a little short on right now."

The second voice said nothing.

"Granger and Weasley were able to have children," the first voice said. "That cuts into our plan a little."

"Not too much, master."

"When did they hospitalize Black?"

"Not more than two hours ago, master."

"His status?"

"Critical, master."

"He's still alive?" the first voice hissed.

"Yes, master."

There was a note of appreciation in the first voice's reply. "Just like him."

"If I may, master, Potter is typically upset about the matter. It seems that he has made the connection between Malfoy and the disease that we have infected Black with."   
  


"Potter has nothing to worry about. As long as Black practices no dark magic, the disease won't kill him."

"They don't know that, master."

"Didn't they ever discover the bodies of the other Death Eaters who died?"

"No, master, they did not."

"Simpletons," the first voice said, disdain and arrogance coloring his voice. "Our only worries, then, are Potter and Weasley."

"Quite a few Weasleys, master."

"Bah. There's always quite a few Weasleys. They're prolific."

"Yes, master."

"We set our plan in motion tonight."

"Yes, master."

"You command."

"With pleasure, master."

**

Thanks for hanging on through the time change! We'll be going back and covering past events and such through the eyes of the characters, which is the way I had originally intended to tell the story. Jessie, Jamie and Mick all start school in the next chapter! If you're enjoying this, please take a moment and join my Yahoo! Group for discussion and review replies. Also, you get update notices. The URL is Come on in, we'd love to have you!


	7. The Hogwarts Express

For Risa, a.k.a. Shinou, my partner in crime, who provided me with the soundtrack for this chapter. God bless you.

**Chapter Seven: The Hogwarts Express**

Jessica sat in the nearest car to the back of the train with her brothers, pondering her next chess move. Across from her, Mick shoved up his glasses and grinned. A younger, red-haired version of their father, Mick had inherited his Uncle Ron's talent for chess.

"You don't have a move," he said in that soft, patient way he had. "You could just save yourself a lot of pain and trouble and order your king to remove his crown now…"

"Brian Michael Potter," Jessica said, looking up from the board to stare her brother straight in the eyes. "Shut up."

Mick grinned. "I'm just trying to help you out."

Jamie regarded them with his deceptively serious looking green eyes. "Jessica, if Mick says he's got you beat…"

Jessica made a frustrated sound.

"…Then you can be pretty sure there's some other move on the board that he doesn't want you to know about," Jamie finished.

Jessica looked up at Jamie and they laughed conspiratorially. 

Mick smiled. "I'm just trying to make your defeat less painful."

"Of course," Jessica retorted. "I need your help like I need a hole in the head."

"Don't you think it's a bit odd that no one has…" Jamie started, but then the car door slid open.

"Excuse me, but do you blokes have room for two others?"

Jamie ran a hand through his jet-black hair, as if considering. Then he grinned and said, "Yes. Come right in."

Sliding the door open to enter, a young boy in his second year with a Gryffindor crest on his robes entered the car.

"We had a bit of trouble getting our trunks put away," he said. Behind him, a young girl with no crest on her robes entered the car. "This is my sister, Delia. I'm Gareth Williams."

"Hullo Delia, Gareth," Mick said, and prodded the chess pieces with his finger. "Your move, sister mine."

"I would move if you would shut up," Jessica whispered in between clenched teeth. "Honestly."

Gareth wasn't much taller than the Potter boys, who were small for their age. He had golden hair, and slightly crooked teeth, and once he saw that Jamie was reading "The Adventures of Sherwin Homel," the wizarding version of Sherlock Holmes, he settled right in.

"That's a great book," he said conversationally.

"It is," Jamie agreed. "I'm James Potter. Call me Jamie."

"I'm Brian Michael Potter," Mick said, "but that's a bit tedious, so call me Mick."

Gareth laughed. "That's true."

"I'm Jessica Potter," Jessica said, "and I would say a bit more, but making my brother look ridiculous at chess is taking all of the concentration of I've got right now."

Delia chose to sit next to Jessica, and watched the game with avid attention.

"So," she said at length, "what's the object of the game?"

Mick looked up, startled. "I'm trying to capture her king."

"It's a bit more complicated than that, Mick," Jessica said, and blew the strand of hair that had fallen into her face out of the way. "The pieces can only move certain ways, and in certain amounts. Sometimes it can take hours to play, sometimes it takes only minutes."

"With her, most of the time it's minutes," Mick interrupted. 

Delia blinked. "She beats you that quickly?"

The car erupted into laughter. 

"I like you already," Jamie said, and wiped his eyes.

"Wait a minute. I just made the connection," Gareth said. All of the Potters inwardly cringed. Here it came. "You're Harry Potter's kids, right?"

"Yes, that's right," Jamie said proudly. Most of the time, when people talked to them about their parents, they were grateful and respectful, but some were just mean, and those that remembered Jessica was not the Potter's biological child sometimes attacked her, as well. 

"That's cool," Gareth said, Delia nodded, and that was that.

Jamie, Mick and Jessica breathed a sigh of relief. These confrontations could be awkward, and they wanted their first day of school to go well.

"You're triplets, right?" Delia asked, resting her chin in her hand.

"For all of our purposes, yes," Mick answered evasively. "That is, as far as we're concerned, we are."

"That's all that matters," Gareth said. "What do other people know?"

"Not much at all, I've found," Jamie responded, and half smiled. 

Delia tucked her legs up on the seat. "Where do you think you'll be Sorted to?"

"Gryffindor's good, but all of the houses are decent. Except for Slytherin. They seem to be nasty blokes," Gareth said.

"I think I might end up in Ravenclaw," Delia muttered. "That wouldn't be so bad, would it?"

Gareth looked at her sharply. "No, it wouldn't. It doesn't matter what house you get sorted into, Delia. You'll be at Hogwarts, and that's what counts, no matter what Dad says."

"I'm not sure what House I'll be in, either," Jessica commented, and ordered a pawn to move forward a space. Much to her distress, Mick captured it with his knight.

"You'll be in Gryffindor, like the rest of us," Jamie said fiercely. But underneath it all, even he was wondering if he had what it took to be in the same house that the rest of his family had been Sorted into.

"I hope so," Jessica whispered.

"Does the train ever stop?" Mick wondered aloud as he forced Jessica's queen to surrender to his castle.

"We'll get there eventually," Gareth said and stretched his legs out. They ached, and he had a feeling it had to do with the fact that he was growing.

"Eventually," Jessica sighed. "I just want to get the first day over and done with."

"It's not so bad," Gareth, the voice of experience, said. "It's a little bit intimidating at first, but you'll get used to it. Besides, almost everyone understands what you're going through."  
  


"Almost everyone?" Delia squeaked.

"There are gits at Hogwarts, just like everywhere else."

Jamie and Mick glanced at each other. 

Jamie almost licked his lips in anticipation. "We can't wait to get through the first day, either. We've got to scope out the territory."

"We've got to insure certain…artifacts that have come into our possession still work properly…" Mick continued.

"There's the secret passageways, the teachers," Jamie sighed. "There's so much to be done, and so little time to get it done before we gain a reputation."

"What about you?" Gareth turned to Jessica. "Are you in on their plots?"

"Only the more dangerous ones," Jessica drawled. "I don't jump into things that don't involve life-endangering experiences. It's just not worth it, otherwise.

Gareth grinned. "You're going to like Hogwarts, then."

"That's what Dad tells me," Jessica said with a grin. "He was the same way, but not by choice, the way he tells it."

"The way Mum tells it," Mick interrupted, "Dad was always jumping into those situations. According to her, he had a choice, it was just that he didn't always think it through. She thinks we're supposed to learn a lesson or something from all of that."

Jamie shook his head. "Parents." The rest of the car agreed with him.

"Something from the cart, dears?" A plump woman entered the compartment pushing a tray full of sweets.

"No, thank you," Gareth said, and waved his hand.

"We'll take some of that," Jamie said and stood. "What should we get?"

Jessica jumped from her seat, and so did Mick. They made small talk and jokes as they inspected the candy and made their decisions.

"I can't believe you bought those," Jessica said to Mick.

"Why? What's wrong with Every Flavoured Beans?"

"They're absolutely disgusting, that's what's wrong," she retorted crossly.

"Just because they made you sick _that one time…" Mick threw back._

"I had the flu, and you gave me a vomit flavoured one!"

"I didn't know you were sick!"

Jessica sighed and rolled her eyes. "Even the smell of them makes me queasy."

Mick shrugged. "Sorry. Don't sit too close to me, then."

Delia smiled. "Bertie Botts'?"

"Of course. That's the only kind there is," Mick said and popped one into his mouth. "Banana cream! Wicked…"

"We apologize for him," Jessica said, and patted Mick's knee. "He can't help himself, you know. The doctors think it has something to do with not getting enough oxygen to his brain during the delivery process."

Jamie shook his head. "We all know the truth, though. He was like this from the very beginning, even before birth."

Mick displayed his teeth in something that might have been a smile. "Keep in mind, James Albus Potter, that I know where you sleep."

Shrugging, Jamie popped a bean into his mouth and held it on the tip of his tongue while he talked. "That doesn't worry me so much. It's the fact that you know where I eat that bothers me. What's even more disturbing than that fearful thought is that you know where the kitchens are located. I shall be watching myself carefully."

"That's a bit too easy, don't you think?" Mick asked. "I'd give me a bit more creative credit than that."

Jamie shook his head. "I know your mental limitations. I'll be watching my food."

"I could use a sneak attack," Mick countered. "I could have Jessica, um, do something…"

"Like I said. I'll be watching my food."

Turning to see who was poking her in the side, Jessica found herself face to face with Delia. The pretty brown-haired girl seemed just a bit scared.

"Are they serious?"

Jessica fought the urge to laugh in the obviously naïve young girl's face. "No. Jamie and Mick may make fun of each other, but they would never hurt each other, and if one of them is threatened by an outsider, they're on it right away."

"Gareth's like that for me, but he says I don't have to worry about him."

"We all need someone to worry about us," Jessica said. "I just happen to have two brothers to do that for me. You've got Gareth, and he's got you."

"Yes, he does." Delia turned, suddenly thoughtful.

"That was odd," Jessica muttered to herself.

They finally stopped, and when they got off the train, a tired and worried Remus Lupin met them.

"First years! First years follow me, please!"

"What's going on?" Delia asked Gareth.

"It's nothing, Delia. It's just a boat ride. It's tradition. I'll see you up at the Great Hall, okay?"

"All right." Delia looked only slightly doubtfully.

"Come on," Jessica said a little impatiently, "you can ride with us."

"All right," Delia said again. Jessica reflected that if she was going to hang with the Potters much longer, she was going to have to develop more of a backbone, though the comment about beating Mick at chess was really well done.

From the boats, Jessica got her first real view of Hogwarts. She'd seen pictures of it, of course. Her mother and father had scrapbooks full of pictures of everything from Quidditch to snowball fights to swims in the lake.

For all of the wonderful things she'd heard about it, nothing compared to seeing the castle for herself, finally. 

It was lit up, so that each individual tower could be seen plainly, and the light from the castle itself reflected on the lake water so that she couldn't see her own reflection in the water. It was large, it was majestic, it was somehow intimidating, and this was to be her home until Christmas.

"What do you think of it?" Remus, or Professor Lupin, as the children were expected to call him at school, asked.

"Oh, it's marvelous!" Jessica breathed. "I can see why Dad and Mum liked it so much."

Jamie and Mick exchanged glances. "It looks like a challenge," was Jamie's verdict, a statement that made Remus laugh.

"The lights are wonderful," Jessica continued, "and it's so_ large, and it just feels __right to finally be here."_

Remus's face lit up with a rare smile. "I'm glad you feel that way. It will make your life easier, at least."

"Are you going to be there for the Sorting?" Jessica bounced a little in the boat, a motion that made some of her classmates a little angry.

"Of course. I wouldn't miss it for the world."

"I hope I'm in Gryffindor," Jessica whispered in what she thought was a tone that no one could hear.

"You're a Potter," Remus said simply.

Jessica nodded. "Yes, I am."

They were guided into a hallway, and Remus told them to wait until the Deputy Headmaster came to tell them more about the Sorting.

At first, the first years were quiet, but then one student started talking to another, and soon the conversation level had risen to a gentle murmur.

There was a sudden silencing when several clicks announced the arrival of someone.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," he said, and sneered at the Potter children. "Being here is a privilege, not a right granted to you by your parents, no matter _who_ they are, or how special you think you are. The Sorting is important as it will tell you which House you will be living in during the next seven years of your life.

"I'm Professor Severus Snape. Follow me, please." 


	8. A New Professor

_I sincerely apologize for the delay. Ask Shinou, she'll tell you that I've been fighting this chapter for ages. I finally just decided to let it flow._

Chapter Eight: The New Professor 

Professor McGonagall pressed her lips together. Just an hour and a half before the Sorting Ceremony, and her Defense Against the Dark Arts professor had fallen ill. Though she was worried about Sirius, her primary concern was to find a replacement, and quickly. The children couldn't afford to do without, especially in these times.

With a sudden burst of energy, she rose and strode quickly to the fireplace located in her office. She had an idea for the assignment, but she wished to speak to someone first. Throwing in a handful of Floo powder, she said, "Raina O'Reilly."

Fortunately, the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement was in her office. "Minerva. What can I do for you?"

The voice was clipped and business-like, and very, very Irish. "Chief O'Reilly, I need a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor."

"Oh, yes," Raina muttered to herself, "Sirius Black will be unable to fill the position for the time being."

"The doctors assure me that he shouldn't be doing any teaching this term. It's a miracle they managed to keep him alive," Minerva added, almost as an afterthought.

"Do you have some specific in mind?"

Minerva raised her eyebrows. "I do, actually."

A smile blossomed on Raina's face, transforming the stern expression into an attractive and amused one. "Well, who is it that you want to be stealing from me?"

Minerva tapped her fingertips on the mantle. "Ronald Weasley."

"Why are you after my best officer now, Minerva?"

"I would think that's obvious. Because he is the best. I'm not taking Harry Potter," she continued, because she could see the question forming on the chief's lips, "because that young man has already given the world enough. Besides, he's got to work out what's ailing Sirius, before it gets really serious."

"Aye," Raina agreed. "I just really hate to be losing Weasley. He does fine work. That wife of his is sharp, as well."

Pride swept through Minerva. "Yes, they both are a wonderful credit to their house."

"Gryffindors, were they?" Raina was amused. 

"Yes," Professor McGonagall said. "Now that Remus and Anna have retired, I really need to find a Head of House for Gryffindor. I think Captain Weasley would make an excellent choice.

Raina nodded. "I agree."

"So you'll release him from his contract to work up at the school?"

"If that's what Captain Weasley wants, then yes. I can't think of anyone better qualified to teach Defense. In all honesty, he spends more time here than Potter, which is understandable, and his talent for strategizing has saved more than a few missions."

"I would imagine so," Professor McGonagall said dryly. "I'll never get over that boy defeating my chess set at eleven years of age."

"I haven't heard that one," Raina muttered. "I've got to go, there's more paperwork here than I have hours in the day for."

"I understand," McGonagall said, and they shared a knowing smile. "Weasley will inform you of his decision shortly, I would think."

"Without a doubt."

Abruptly, Minerva's fireplace went out. Sighing, she geared herself up to make two more Floos. Another handful of the powder, and she was in touch with the Weasley family's Port-Floo. 

"Weasley residence, Hermione speaking," a crisp voice told her.

"Mrs. Weasley, this is Minerva McGonagall."

There was a nearly inaudible gasp on the other end of the Floo. "Has something happened at Hogwarts, Professor?" 

"You can call me Minerva, and you could definitely say that," Minerva said, and ran a hand over her eyes. "I know this sounds cold, but Sirius's illness leaves me without a Defense professor."

"Of course," Hermione muttered. "I simply can't take a teaching job, and you know that, so you must want to speak with Ron. He's at the hospital."

Minerva smiled. "I thought he would be. I just wanted to check at your home first. Getting a hold of him at St. Mungo's is going to be a nightmare."

"He has his Port-Floo with him."

"Thank you for your help, Mrs. Weasley."

"It's my pleasure, Minerva."

A smile lit Professor McGonagall's face. The fire went out again, and she threw another handful of the powder in. "Captain Weasley on the Port-Floo, please."

"Weasley here. I'm kind of busy. Make it short."

"Hello to you too, Mr. Weasley." Amused, McGonagall let Ron hear her chuckle.

"Sorry Professor. It's just been a long day."

"I understand, Ronald. I have a job offer for you."

"What?" There was a different kind of shock in his voice this time. "What do you mean?"

"As cold-hearted as this sounds, Sirius has fallen ill at a very bad time. I simply must have a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor."

"Well, then, you'll want Harry for that."

"No, Ronald, I want you for the job. Lieutenant Potter has made it clear to me that while he would accept the job, he would much rather be playing Quidditch, which is understandable. Besides which, you've been involved in the development of the latest defense spells. There simply is no one better qualified for the position."

Ron bit his lip. Minerva could hear a muffled conversation between two people in the background.

"Hello, Professor," Harry Potter's voice greeted her.

"Hello, Harry."

"It will only take me a minute to convince him, Professor. Just hold the line. Here he is."

"One last thing, Mr. Potter."

"Yes, Professor?"

"While you're taking care of your uncle, make sure to take care of yourself. Please keep us informed of his condition. Is he awake yet?"

"No, Professor. They're saying he'll regain consciousness in a few days. They've got him on a drug that's fighting the alien cells. I've got a hunch about this, Professor. I'm going to have them check Sirius's blood sample against a sample from Draco Malfoy's file."

Minerva nodded. "Excellent idea, Potter. They were never able to identify what it was that killed Mr. Malfoy, and it does sound like the symptoms are similar to what they theorized about."

"That's what I thought. Here's Ron, Professor."

"Well, Captain Weasley, will you be joining our staff?" There was a hint of desperation in McGonagall's voice. 

She really wanted him to take the job, Ron realized. "I'll be there in half an hour, Professor. I've got to inform my superior officer, then tell Hermione, and then I'll come up to the castle."

"Wonderful, Ronald! We'll work out living arrangements and other such things after the Sorting Ceremony. I've got a bad feeling about all of this," she continued, deciding to take both men into her confidence. "It doesn't seem right to me that our Defense professor suddenly falls ill, and then Dark activity picks up again. There's something in the air."

Harry nodded and leaned over to speak into the Port-Floo. "I agree, Professor. I'll be spending more hours at the office, I can tell. Ron can take care of Hogwarts defense, and I'll work on the problem from here."

"We don't want another Voldemort coming to power," Ron said. "Perhaps we'll stop it from happening before it gets worse, this time.

"I most certainly agree. I will see you shortly, Ronald. Harry, I will contact you and your wife soon. It's been a long time since I've seen the little ones."

"Ginny said something about that just the other day, Minerva. I imagine she'll be calling you."

"Good-bye," Ron said, and shut the flap on his Port-Floo. The flame automatically extinguished. 

"You'd better get moving, Professor," Harry said, a light not of teasing in his voice. "You've got a lot of work to get done."

"That felt odd," Ron muttered. "Professor Weasley."

"I think it sounds perfectly natural," Harry countered. 

"Hermione will lecture me about rushing into something blind, feet first," Ron said once they stepped outside of St. Mungo's. "I haven't got lessons planned, or the faintest idea of what to do." 

"It'll come naturally to you," Harry said. "Do you want me to go with you to the office? I've got some work to get done there, anyway."

"I thought you were going into complete retirement soon."

"I will," Harry said, then had to repeat himself to feel confident about it. "I will. Once this all blows over."

Ron placed a hand on his friend's shoulder. "You work too hard, mate. You don't have to save the world every time, you know."

"I know." Harry smiled ruefully. "It just feels like I have to."

With that, they both Disapparated. 

**

With a mighty pull, Snape opened the door to the Great Hall, and the first year students filed in. A breath of excitement whispered through the classmates as they waited to find out what their test was going to be.

"Students," Professor Snape said, and picked up a tattered old hat. "The ceremony will now begin."

With that, the hat opened its brim and began to sing loudly.

_Have no fear, you poor young dears!_

_Worn and weary though I look, I'm smarter than any book!_

_I'll place you in house, and at my placement you mustn't grouse…_

_It might be Gryffindor, for the brave at heart,_

_Gryffindor would be a great place to start!_

_It might be Ravenclaw, for those quick and clever,_

_Ravenclaws use their intelligence as their lever_

_It might be Hufflepuff, for the those loyal to the end,_

_Hufflepuffs make wonderful friends!_

_It might be Slytherin for the ambitious lot,_

_In their quest for glory, Slytherins never stop._

_In Hogwarts you are always welcome,_

_No matter your house or home!_

_Try me on and you will see_

_Just where you ought to be._

"When I call your name," Professor Snape said, ignoring the gaping looks on some of the first years' faces, "place advance to the front and put on the hat."

"Adams, Benjamin."

A trembling boy was the first to go, and it only took the hat a moment to pronounce, "Hufflepuff!"

"Cammins, Lisa," was the next, and the hat's verdict for her was Slytherin.

Jessica's legs began to knock together in anticipation. Now was the moment of truth. Would she be placed in Gryffindor? Did she deserve to be placed there?

Sensing her self-doubt, her brothers moved closer to her side, so that even to those who didn't know them well, it would be clear that they were a unit.

"Malfoy-Potter, Jessica," Snape drawled.

"Well, this is most certainly interesting," the Sorting Hat said in her ear. "A Malfoy by birth, a Potter by adoption. What to do with you?"

"Oh, please sir," Jessica whispered, "anything but Slytherin."

"Bravery, I see, but there's a healthy dose of loyalty here, as well. Talent, oh yes, and intelligence."

"Not Slytherin," Jessica said firmly.

"Oh, certainly not, my dear. You wouldn't do well there at all." A wave of relief swept through her. "After all, you are a Potter. GRYFFINDOR!"

Whispers followed Jessica as she took her seat the Gryffindor tower, but the students there were quick to welcome her and make her feel at home. She had to wait a while for her brothers to come up.

"Potter, Brian," Snape said.

Mick barely put the hat on its head before the hat announced him as another Gryffindor. The same happened with Jamie.

After a round of applause, Professor McGonagall stood and tapped her goblet lightly for attention. "Welcome back students, to another wonderful year here at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. There are a few changes to the staff that I must announce. 

"Professors Remus and Anna Lupin have resigned, in order to enjoy their remaining years together." A murmur of appreciation went up through the school. "Our Care of Magical Creatures professor, replacing Professor R. Lupin will be Professor Amanda Cullins. Divination will be covered by Professor Orion Lupin.

"It saddens me to announce that Professor Sirius Black has fallen seriously ill, and is unable to teach this term. So, taking over the Head of House position, as well as the Defense position, will be the former Captain, now Professor Ronald Weasley, of the Magical Law Enforcement division of the Ministry of Magic. He will be arriving shortly."

Just then, the doors opposite the first years had entered opened with a bang. A man with shocking red hair and in full dress uniform entered the room. The medals on his chest gleamed, and his boots made firm clicking sounds on the floor, which were followed by the heavy thump of his walking stick. The only thing that ruined the effect was the broad smile on his face.

"Students, allow me to introduce Professor Weasley." The Great Hall erupted into applause. It obvious the students approved of the new professor.

The older boys were greatly impressed, and some even recognized him.

"Wow," said the boy that sat next to Gareth. "I've heard he's a war hero."

"He is," Jamie said shortly. "He's my godfather."

**

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	9. Mr Gruthersford, Always Watching

For Joe, my kindred spirit.  
  
Chapter Nine: Gus Gruthersford, Keeping Watch  
  
Ron told himself that he was merely in a state of near panic on his first day of teaching. In reality, it was more like a full-blown attack.  
  
"Ron." Hermione called to him as he sat eating his breakfast. "Ron."  
  
"Hmmm?" He looked up to see Hermione's amused expression. "What is it, love?"  
  
Hermione sat down next to him, and calmly put his fork on the table. "You're going to be wonderful, Ronald Weasley."  
  
He sighed. "I hope so."  
  
Hermione shook her head. "No, you have to believe it, otherwise those kids will eat you for breakfast."  
  
"I've never done anything like this. Harry."  
  
"Doesn't have anything to do with this," Hermione finished certainly.  
  
"I don't have any plans, I don't know."  
  
"So, do a practical lesson to get them started," Hermione supplied helpfully. "Lecturing about rules and such never held your attention for long. Think back. what kept you motivated during your years at Hogwarts?"  
  
Ron smiled. "You did, love."  
  
Hermione blushed and tucked her hair behind her ears, a habit she'd picked up during her pregnancy with the first of their two children. "Before me," she whispered.  
  
Ron grinned and kissed her cheek with love, then her lips. "Some people aren't so lucky, I guess."  
  
Hermione stood abruptly. "Ronald Weasley, you pick the most ridiculous times to be romantic! I have to get the children ready for nursery school, and I'm all --" she made a vague motion with her hands "-- flustered."  
  
"You're pretty when you're flustered."  
  
"You're biased," Hermione declared. "When do you have to be at school?"  
  
"My first class is in a couple of hours. I think I ought to leave now."  
  
Hermione nodded in agreement. "Go get 'em, Captain Weasley."  
  
"I shall see you when I get home, Mrs. Weasley."  
  
"I look forward to it," Hermione said, and shook her head as Ron Disapparated, "Professor."  
  
**  
  
Hogwarts hadn't changed much since Harry's days at the school. The staircases still changed, the portraits still moved, and classes carried on with the same varied levels of enthusiasm from both students and staff.  
  
Jessica, James and Mick were seated at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall during breakfast, reviewing their time tables.  
  
"Look at our first class!" James exclaimed.  
  
Mick made a disgusted sound in the back of his throat. "Potions, with Snape."  
  
Jessica chewed thoughtfully on her lip. "I don't know. Potions sounds kind of interesting."  
  
"Snape doesn't," James said.  
  
"I intend to go into the class calm, cool, and collected, and come out of it that way. According to what Dad said, Professor Snape may not be the easiest person to get along with, but he's brilliant at what he does," Jessica said primly, and with a hint of sarcasm.  
  
"You do what you want, sister mine," Mick said with careless grin, and shoved an entire sausage into his mouth. When he grinned, he displayed it in its entire length. With a deft movement, he brought the meat back into his mouth and swallowed it.  
  
"Chew," Jessica muttered.  
  
"Mick and I, we've got a plan," James announced.  
  
"Why am I not surprised?"  
  
"Because we always have a plan?" Mick guessed.  
  
"That's probably it," Jessica agreed.  
  
"What's going on?" Gareth asked, and swung himself down next to Jessica. "You all look really serious."  
  
"We're going over our time tables," James said, and regarded the plate of eggs, and a second helping, thoughtfully.  
  
"What's your first class of the day?"  
  
"Potions," Mick supplied and bit off half of another sausage.  
  
"Professor Snape," Gareth said with the smile of the wise and superior. "Wonderful bloke."  
  
"I'm sure he is," Jessica said dryly.  
  
"It's all in the attitude," Gareth went on. "If you go into his class thinking positively, you get so much more out of the experience."  
  
"What is there positive about having Potions first thing in the morning?" James asked.  
  
"Well, that means I don't have it first thing in the morning," Gareth said, and strode off, leaving Jessica debating whether or not to laugh or snarl. She opted for the former.  
  
"I just overhead your conversation," Delia said shyly. "Who do we have Potions with?"  
  
Jessica checked the piece of parchment sitting in front of her. "It looks like Hufflepuff."  
  
"Good. Our first class of the day won't be with Slytherin, then," James said, and shoved his plate away.  
  
"I'm not sure if that's to our advantage or not, mate," Mick threw in, and also slid away from the table. "Time will tell, I suppose."  
  
Jessica rolled her eyes. "We have Uncle Ron's class just before lunch."  
  
"It's Professor Weasley now," a deep voice said from behind them.  
  
With a squeal, Delia and Jessica jumped up, frightened.  
  
"Orion!" Jessica exclaimed. Even though Orion was only really seventeen years old, his inherited Divination ability more than qualified him for the position of professor.  
  
Grinning wickedly, the boy stepped back from the table. He wore his long hair pulled back with a leather strip. Long, simple blue robes were draped over his lean and tall body. Anna could never explain why her son was over a foot taller than her, and much taller than her husband. His eyes were blue- the same startling shade as his mother's, though that wasn't the only thing he'd inherited from Anna.  
  
"I thought his name was Professor Lupin," Delia whispered.  
  
"It is, in class," Jessica said. "He used to baby-sit us during the summer when Mum and Dad would go out."  
  
"If I were you," Orion said, and the weight of his eyes drew Jessica's, "I would be more careful about letting people know your connections. I know you don't do it on purpose, but it might seem that way to some people."  
  
"Like we get special treatment because we're Potters?" Mick asked.  
  
"Exactly," Orion, or rather, Professor Lupin, acknowledged. "It may seem ridiculous to you lot, but some of the students get. jealous. Very easily."  
  
James, Jessica and Mick all nodded, in the strange triplet unison that they only rarely employed. "Right."  
  
With a nod, Orion headed up to the staff table and warmly greeted Professor Binns.  
  
"Come on, let's get to class," James said, and they all rose.  
  
**  
  
The class of seventh year students spread themselves throughout the room, with Gryffindors on one side, and Slytherins on the other.  
  
After five minutes of waiting for the professor to arrive, quiet conversations began. The room grew silent again as they heard the distinct step-drag-thump coming down the hallway.  
  
The door opened silently, and Professor Weasley made his way in painfully, though with pride. The medals that decorated his cloak clanged together in testimony of his years of service to the government and the Ministry.  
  
"Hello. My name is Captain Ronald Weasley, of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Professor Weasley will work in this setting.  
  
"This class will be dangerous. If you're not prepared to listen to what I have to say, and then apply it. you will get hurt. No ifs, ands, or buts about it. Is that understood?"  
  
The class nodded.  
  
"Real life dark wizards don't give you second chances. They don't give you time to make up your mind. You've got to react instinctively. That is what I'm going to teach you to do in this class. If you're going to react without having to think, that means that all your thinking has to be done ahead of time, so, yes, you will be learning magical theory, and yes, you will be writing papers in this class.  
  
"However, a great portion of this class will be practical application. skills that you will need every day for the rest of your life. Yes, Miss.?"  
  
"Lisa Thompson, sir."  
  
"Yes, Miss Thompson?"  
  
"What do you mean skills that we'll need every day?"  
  
Ron sighed. "I mean self-defense. I mean knowing what to look for. knowing the difference between Dark and Light magic. and the line is blurrier than you think it is, I can guarantee.  
  
"Whether you recognize it or not, you need Defense Against the Dark Arts in your adult life. You will apply this knowledge, I assure of it, especially if you're interested in a job with the Ministry.  
  
"Now, put your books away. Let's start the year off right. We're going to be dealing with the Flamantus Curse."  
  
**  
  
"What did Gareth say about having a positive attitude in that bloke's class?" Jessica asked and pointed irritably towards the dungeons.  
  
James and Mick wisely kept their mouths shut. "Never, in all of my life, have I met someone so. biased without even having met us!"  
  
"I'm certainly glad I'm not you," Delia muttered under her breath.  
  
Jessica let off a frustrated sound. "I'm telling you, it's indecent! Just because our grandfather couldn't stand him."  
  
"For obvious reasons," James put in, and was awarded with a dirty look.  
  
".He thinks he needs to take it out on us. The nerve of that man, insulting Dad in front of us, and there's not a thing we can do about it. I swear, I."  
  
She vented until they reached the moving stairways.  
  
Delia took a step backwards. "I do not like these things."  
  
Jessica shrugged. "To be perfectly honest, neither do I, but we've got to take them to get to Charms."  
  
"I don't feel very many Gryffindor tendencies right now," Delia said, and backed right into Mick.  
  
"Nonsense," James retorted. "The Sorting Hat put you with us for a reason."  
  
"The stairs might even decide not to move," Mick said, and smiled. "You could have got all worked up over something that's not going to happen."  
  
Delia took a deep breath. "I suppose if I close my eyes, it won't be as bad."  
  
Jessica shrugged. "I think that would make it worse, but whatever works for you."  
  
Shakily, Delia put her foot in the first stair, and then moved forward, step by step, with her eyes closed and her hand firmly on the railing. Behind her, the Potters formed a wall, never moving until she did.  
  
Watching from the top balcony, Mr. Gruthersford chuckled. "'Arry's children, 'ere at 'Ogwarts already. This will make things interestin'."  
  
Rising his old bones slowly from the sitting position, he stealthily made his way down into the Room of Requirement- the room where Lily and James had stored their message to Harry and Ginny.  
  
The door opened more easily for him than it had for them, and he stepped inside the now cool, cleared out room.  
  
With a caress of one of his long, bony fingers, one of the bricks in the wall slid out, and he removed the last of his collection of papers and put them in the box that was already there. Soon, he would be done with his obligation to the Potter family, and to Albus Dumbledore. Then. and then he didn't know what he was going to do.  
  
The arthritis in his knees impaired his movement, so that he wasn't as quick as he used to be. That didn't mean that he still couldn't get the job done. he just took more time to get it done right.  
  
His last stop before he left Hogwarts was the Owlery. Taking one of the pieces of parchment and a quill supplied by the school, he scrawled out a quick note.  
  
Dear Mr. and Mrs. Harry Potter,  
  
I'm not sure that you'll recognize the seal on the document I've enclosed, but I'm an old servant of Mr. Potter's father, James.  
  
Perhaps this will help you in identifying your mysterious disease.  
  
As always, I'm keeping watch, ~Augustus Gruthersford  
  
Just as the bird took off into the sky, Gus felt something heavy on the base of his skull. He had just enough time to register the hit before he passed out completely.  
  
**  
  
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	10. Delia's Dilemma

_For all the Delias in my life. God bless you all, and may you find your true vocations._

Chapter Ten

Delia was feeling a little left out. Okay, so maybe she was feeling a little bit more than left out- she was feeling abandoned. Jessica, James, Mick , and Gareth had all got together in a corner, playing some game, and she hadn't been invited. They probably hadn't seen her, Delia thought resignedly, because she was so quiet. Gareth was forever telling her to speak up, to make her presence known.

Now there was a half hour before supper, and Delia was going exploring on her own, the first time she had dared to do so without the protection of her new friends the Potters and Gareth. A very brave idea, she knew, and one that could make them- all of her friends- see how brave she was. She wasn't a coward, she was just very shy.

With a wave and a quiet farewell, Delia stepped out of the common room into the wide world of Hogwarts on her own.

Corridors turned and twisted, portraits blended together, land markings became rare, and Delia found herself hopelessly lost. Standing in the middle of an abandoned classroom, she began to feel a sob try to works its way up past her chest into her throat, but she refused to let it.

The sound of her own very small shoes clicking against the stone floor of the classroom sounded ominous to Delia, and she felt a chill run up her spine. She wasn't going to scream, and she wasn't going to panic. There _was a way to find her way back to the common room. There just had to be._

Bravely, she threw back her shoulders and walked out the door to reenter the corridor. With a flip of her head for the benefit of whatever divine power that was watching her, she made a seemingly careless choice to go left.

She walked for some time, until the carpet changed from a lovely deep purple color to a forest green, and then she stopped. That tingling in the back of her spine had turned into a twinge. 

"What is this? A wandering visitor to the Hall Of Headmasters?"

Delia turned around fast, her eyes wild and her chest heaving. Until now, the silence had been like a blanket, the sound of her own thoughts like thunder in her head. She now found herself face to face with a portrait of a kindly man with midnight blue robes and a pointed hat, who smiled at her gently from behind half-moon spectacles. His hair and beard were long and white, but while she would have normally been frightened, she felt at ease immediately when she looked at this man, because she recognized who he was. Professor Albus Dumbledore.

"I'm sorry for disturbing you, sir. I'll leave now…"

"No, no, it's quite all right. It gets rather dull around here." The old professor gestured towards the other portraits in the room. "After a time, all they want to do is sleep."

Delia chuckled softly, because the quiet snores that each portrait emitted had gathered to a large, single sound that sounded like an accordion compressing and then stretching. 

His eyes still twinkling, Professor Dumbledore sat in a chair that had been in the background of the portrait until just then. "What is your name, young lady?"

"Delia Williams, Professor Dumbledore."

"Williams…" Professor Dumbledore did some quick mental calculations. "Ah, yes. David and Lucy were your parents, right?"

Delia nodded, and nervously pulled on her hair. "That's right. I was Sorted into Gryffindor, like my father."

"My old house!" Professor Dumbledore exclaimed. "Of course, I don't get out for Quidditch matches anymore, but I'm sure you'll enjoy it there."

"If I stay there," Delia mumbled.

Professor Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "I have a feeling you will, young lady. Do you realize what brave things you have accomplished, just today?"

Delia shook her head mournfully. "I haven't done anything brave. I went to go exploring, and then I got lost. I was horribly frightened when I was in that room by myself and…"

The old headmaster shook his head in disagreement. "Someone has given you the wrong definition of brave, Miss Williams. It does not mean that you are not frightened. If you are never frightened, you were never brave, you were stupid. On the contrary, being brave means doing what needs to be done despite the fact that you are frightened."

"Jessica Potter says her dad was never frightened."

Professor Dumbledore smiled kindly. "I'm sure that if you were to ask Harry if he's ever been frightened, he will tell you that he has been, and probably will be again.

"Being brave doesn't mean not being shy, either, Miss Williams. Sometimes it takes more bravery to not say anything than it does to give your opinion."

Delia blushed, feeling strangely honored to have this famous man's full attention directed at her. Maybe to Jessica, James and Mick, this would be normal, but Delia wasn't used to having adults pay her any mind at all. "But my brother…"

Professor Dumbledore nodded. "Ah. I'm sure that your brother thinks the world of you, Miss Williams, and I'm also sure he's quite worried about you. He just doesn't want you get run over, so to speak. He wants you to make friends on your own."

"You've never met my brother!"

"Yes, I have, Miss Williams. If not personally, then I've met others like him. The more things change, the more they stay the same, to use an old cliché. I'm sorry to cut our conversation short, but you are needed elsewhere. Take a right at the next corner you see, and head left down the corridor that runs parallel to this one. There is a door with a very large handle that is painted gold. Open it, and you'll find where you want to be."

"Will I be able to find this place again, Professor Dumbledore?"

"I shall always be at Hogwarts for those who need me," the old professor's portrait said. "That will never change, no matter how many years pass. You may never find my picture again, but I am with you in spirit. Now, you'd best get a move on, young lady."

Delia nodded and waved quickly, then she was off like a shot, a sense of urgency filling to the brim. She just knew that whatever task the former headmaster had given her was important, and had to be done quickly.

Doors flew past, but none of them fit the description that Professor Dumbledore had given her, and she began to have a case of tunnel vision. She could hardly see anything or anyone, so focused was she on her goal.

Hogwarts unfolded before her, seeming to aid her in her search. Delia began to pray fervently that whatever it was, she would make it in time.

Finally she saw the door. Stopping abruptly, she turned the handle and pushed. The door wouldn't open. Taking a deep breath, she focused. She just knew someone was in trouble; she had an instinct for these things.

On the third try, the door yielded to her efforts. The room was cool, and a sort of ivy grew all over the walls. Huddled up in a corner was the body of a house elf.

Delia flew across the room to pick up the sturdy form. It was a male house elf, she could tell, and his head rolled back when she cradled him in her arms. She looked for vital signs-a chest moving, a pulse anywhere.

She began to chant to herself, "Please, don't be dead. Please don't be dead."

Feeling a familiar, and at the same time strange, golden liquid running through her veins as it had done when she was younger, she continued her mantra. Slowly, the house elf regained conscious and then opened his eyes.

Exhausted, Delia fell back to the floor, and they both lay there for a while. 

"M'name's Gus Guthersford… Mr. Gruthersford to acquaintances and Gus to those who save m'life." 

Delia smiled weakly. "My name is Delia, Mr. Gruthersford."

"I just said that those who save my life can call me Gus, Healer Delia."

"Oh, no, I'm not a Healer, I just… I mean, I'm just a child!"

Gus grinned. "I've always found that children can do much more than some adults… mostly because you don't fully realize your limitations yet. How old are you, by the way?"

"I'm eleven, sir."

"Gus, child, m'name's Gus." He hummed delightfully to himself. "Poppy Pomfrey couldn't do that at your age, young one, and she's one of the most brilliant Healers to have walked the planet!"

Delia blushed. "I didn't _do_ anything. Honestly, I don't know if I could do it again…"

"I'll just bet you could! It's always instinct with Healers, it is. I wonder… Did you see the bloke that knocked me about?"

"No, I just got here. Prof… I mean, someone told me that I was needed, and I came as fast as I could, but when I get here you were the only one around."

The house elf scratched head, bewildered. "It had to be a Muggle, or a Squib. No wizard would have hit me on the back of the skull like that. Unless, of course, their magic is traceable. That would make them a Muggle, a Squib, or a not very powerful wizard."

"They meant to kill you, Mr. Gruthersford. Do you work here at the school?"

"It's Gus, lass. No, I don't work here. I used to, many years ago…"

"Then what were you doing at the school?"

"Doing some favors for an old friend." The old house elf started to sway slightly. "I think that blow to the head is getting to me, Delia."

"We'd best get you to the hospital wing, Mr. Gruthersford. I don't know if I can bring you back a second time."

"No, it's nothing that serious. I'll just have a bit of a sit-down here on the floor for a minute." Slowly, he leveled his bottom with the floor. He couldn't do anything as fast as he used to, he thought to himself with some regret.

"Mr. Gruthersford, really…"

"I could have sworn I heard something creak," he mumbled to himself. "Ah, well, it's no matter. As soon as I can get up off this blasted floor, I need you to take me to the Potter children."

"Why?" Delia asked, suddenly suspicious.

Mr. Gruthersford sighed. "It's complicated, but I think I've found the solution to their problem. I think I know how to cure Sirius Black."

**  
  


Raina O'Reilly found herself face to face with the one man she never thought she would have to confront. Sirius Black.

He didn't look so dangerous now, with all the wires attached to his body, quiet beeps and murmurs of the magical devices that monitored his functions not quite loud enough to drown out the sound of his deep, struggling breath.

All of his life, her father had spent pursuing this man, who now could hardly breathe on his own. Yet, he fought for life because of the love that he had for the people who had become his family.

Raina wished that she had a family.

Suddenly, his eyes flew open, and he turned to look at her. He tried to manage a cocky grin, but most of his strength was spent fighting this disease that no one knew anything about.

"Are you just going to stand there, Commander O'Reilly?" The tone of his voice was slightly mocking, or would have been.

"Mr. Black," Raina greeted him with a smile. "How are you today?"

His eyebrows drew together. "How do you think I am?"

"Sorry, I guess that's a dumb question."

"No, I'm just being snappish. I still sometimes jump at the sight of one of those uniforms, though having Harry join did make me feel a bit better."

Raina took a step inside the room. "He'd rather be playing Quidditch, but then, he deserved that."

"How's Ron doing teaching my class?" Sirius's smile was even more forced with this sentence.

"He thinks it's more challenging than catching evil wizards."

Sirius laughed. "I've been telling him that for fifteen years now!" His laugh turned to a harsh cough. "Damn and blast."

"Do you need me to call a nurse?"

"No, for Merlin's sake, it's only a cough." The next fit brought him off the bed in protest. "Please. Don't. They'll give me something that will make me loopy."

Raina paused. "If you insist."

"I do. I spent enough years loopy in that hell hole of a place."

Raina didn't know what to say. "I…"

Sirius sighed. He hadn't meant to scare her. "It just makes you appreciate your freedom more, you understand?"

"Yes, I understand."

Something in her eyes told him that she did.

"Can I call you Raina?" His eyes were kinder than any murderer's would ever be.

"Of course."

**

That's it! Voila! Remember: groups.yahoo.com/group/testedinfirefans/ is where to go if you want more info!


	11. Explanations

_For Joe, whose appearance online always makes the day brighter, even in the middle of the night, with love from Chi._

Chapter Eleven: Explanations

One of the first things that Delia noticed about Mr. Gruthersford, or Gus, as he insisted she call him, that was different than all the other house-elves she'd come into contact with, was his carriage. While other house elves acted subservient and hunched over in the presence of humans, Gus stood tall, his chin out, with his ears twitching, as if striving to hear everything that was said.

His stunning announcement the moment before had made her move quickly towards the Gryffindor common room, where she hoped to spot the Potters and detain them before they left for supper. She knew that her friends were deeply worried about the man they saw as their grandfather, though none of them would say anything about it.

Suddenly, Delia had a thought. While all this time she'd been somewhat envious of the attention the Potters had been receiving (though she was too well trained to say anything), she hadn't realized that the Potters had it just as tough as anyone else, if not more so.

Jessica wasn't really a Potter- she was a Malfoy by birth, and sometimes Delia _felt_ the insecurity that went with her odd position in life. Despite all of his faults, Draco Malfoy had been a powerful wizard, or so Delia's father told her… so Jessica was probably powerful, too.

James and Mick were expected to be brilliant because they were Harry's children… in most classes they didn't receive special treatment, but rather the opposite. Both boys were quick, but it still didn't seem quite right to Delia.

They neared the common room quickly, though by the end Gus was puffing a bit. Delia wondered if she could fix that, assuming she really was a Healer. A feeling of nervousness swept through her. If she really was a Healer, that meant there was little to no future for her in anything else. Healers were rare enough that they were in high demand, legally unable to do anything but practice their gift, unless they did it on the side.

Healing people involved opening herself up to other people in a way that she had never felt right in doing. She was only eleven, after all! She shouldn't have to worry about this. The unfairness of it all hit her square in the gut, just as the room air of the common room attempted to wash it all away.

Sure enough, the Four Musketeers, as Delia had taken to privately calling them, were still sitting in the corner, discussing in hushed tones a plan that would no doubt be brilliant, a plan that no doubt she would not be a part of. 

"Jess, Jamie, Mick, Gareth… you have a guest," she said in her quiet voice that she had no idea demanded the four's complete attention. As one, they turned to look at her.

Gus shuffled his feet a bit. "M'name's Mr. Augustus Gruthersford, young Potters, Mr. Williams." 

"Pleased to meet you," James said in his stiff formal tone.

"'Ello," Mick said, his eyes wandering in that deceptively simple way of his.

"Good evening, Mr. Gruthersford," Jessica said warmly, but not before she checked over Delia to make sure she was fine.

Gareth nodded. "Mr. Gruthersford."

James, the un-elected, but unanimously supported leader, walked to the head of the group. "What can we do for you, Mr. Gruthersford?"

Mr. Gruthersford grinned. "Your grandmother would have been proud of you, young master. She always enjoyed the company of polite young men, did Lily Potter. That is why, of course, she married your grandfather, who had no manners at all."

"You knew our grandparents?" Mick's green eyes lit up as he swept back a lock of his red hair. A mischievous grin covered his whole face, a cover for the uncertainty that he was feeling. "What were they like?"

"That is a conversation we must have another day, young master. I've come to talk to you about your father's godfather."

"Sirius?" Jessica rose to her feet, hopeful. Of all of them, she felt the most attachment to her father's longtime mentor. 

"Wait a minute, Jess," James said firmly. "We don't know who this--" he paused briefly for a time to find the right term "—house-elf really is. We don't even know why we should trust him."

Mick turned to Gus, and the light in his eyes that had been soft until now turned sharp. The expression on his face was similar to one that Ron had worn more than once before. "Tell us, Mr. Gruthersford, how is it that you knew our grandparents?"

Delia felt a tug on her heart, but she quieted it. All this questioning seemed unnecessary to her, but then, they probably always had people claiming some sort of attachment to the family in hopes that they would get something.

"That's a long story, lad, and you've got to eat supper, and…"

James shook his head. "I'm afraid not, Mr. Gruthersford. We're quite well supplied here in the food department. Besides, if you can help Sirius, the rest of us can stand to miss a meal. Gareth, Delia, you don't have to stay if you don't want to."

"I'll keep you company, mate," Gareth announced easily and draped himself in a squashy armchair. Even though he was a year older, he found he had a great respect for the older Potter boy. He took charge easily, and was always confident. Besides which, his knowledge of Quidditch almost bordered on obsessive, so they always had something to talk about.

"Please, continue with your story," Mick said, the warmth returning to him quickly, as though it had never left.

"I was a much younger house elf when I departed Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardy, where I had been… working, for quite some time, to work for Mr. Harold Potter, your great-grandfather. His offer was tempting- a room to myself, in charge of his other household elves, and free access to the food and more importantly, the Butterbeer in his pantry. Besides which, the lad had always been respectful of me when he came down to the kitchen to sneak away with his snacks, a tradition that I see has carried on in the family.

"He fell in love with a beautiful red-haired girl in his class, Emily DeWinters. They were married shortly after Harold was settled in at his barrister's office, and when they returned from their honeymoon, Emily requested to speak with me.

"She said to me, 'Binky,' which was my name at the time, 'what do you want to do?'

"I'd honestly never thought of it before. I told her that I didn't know. She says to me, 'Binky, it's obvious that you're different than the rest of the house elves. You like to think for yourself, you take advantage of the benefits of your position, and you don't have a problem with telling my Harry that he's being a complete fool.'

"I turned completely red, thinking for sure that this was an official reprimand. I was going to be released, and I could never label myself a respectable house elf ever again. What happened next changed all that, anyway.

"She asked me if I'd like to take a more elevated position… that she and Mr. Potter would give me a new name, treat me like I was an equal. I was floored- this is not something a typical house elf wants, but I found that I did. My lady friend, Dory, who was later to become my wife, told me to accept it. With her blessing, I did. 

"I became Mr. Potter's business assistant, handling his estate and other such matters that he couldn't handle. Both he and Mrs. Potter were exceptionally busy- Mr. Potter with his work as a barrister, Mrs. Potter with her herbs and plants. 

"I requested the name Augustus, after the Roman emperor, and they gave it to me… I've been Augustus Gruthersford ever since, and I have the records to prove it. It's quite legal."

"That's all well and good. Why haven't you shown up sooner?" Jamie asked, his brow furrowed.

Gus sighed. "I couldn't really help your father, lad. I was… incapacitated while he was in school. That's a story for another time, though. The point is, I can help your godfather."

Delia blinked. The pride that was radiating from this little house-elf was almost overwhelming to her. As she focused on his emotions, the room began to fade in and out, and things became blurred, disproportionate. 

Blinking, she tried to stop the process, but soon she was feeling what everyone else was… An overload of information was sent to her brain, and she sat down weakly. It wasn't long before she passed out. 

**

Harry lectured himself sternly just outside of Sirius's door. He wasn't going to say anything to his godfather that might upset him. Nervously, he fingered the edge of his Cannons robe. Sirius was the only thing he had left, really, besides Remus. Remus had a family of his own now, and Sirius was more like a grandfather to his children than anything else.

"Harry, stop standing outside my door and come in already. You're making me nervous."

Chuckling, Harry pushed the door open to discover his godfather was sitting up, thumbing through an issue of what looked like _Motorcycle Today. _

"Is that interesting?" Harry asked as he sat down in a chair across from Sirius's bed. 

"It's the first time I've read it," Sirius responded dryly. "Commander O'Reilly has been keeping me supplied. I think I might start playing with these toys again--" he gestured toward a picture of a Harley "--once I get out of this prison."

Harry grinned and looked over the picture with a masculine appreciation for all things mechanical. "I'm not sure my wife would like that. It does look fun, though."

Sirius threw his head back and laughed, albeit weakly. "James would always get that look on his face when he was plotting to do something Lily didn't approve of." Suddenly his face sobered. "Sometimes it's downright uncanny." 

Harry cleared his throat uncertainly. "I would never do anything Ginny didn't approve of."

Sirius sneered. "I believe you. She's got you whipped, my boy."

"And what a wonderful feeling that is," a soft voice came from the doorway. Both Sirius and Harry turned to see a very tired looking Remus Lupin entering. Harry rose quickly.

"Have a seat, Remus."

Remus nodded and accepted the seat. "Hello, all."

"You look terrible," Sirius announced. "It's nice to see someone in this bloody hell hole who looks as bad as feel."

Remus chuckled. "Let it never be said that Sirius Black was dishonest."

Sirius shrugged. "It keeps you on your toes. Rough night?"

"Hmm. It gets harder and harder to do this as I get older," he muttered to himself. 

"Don't say things like that. You'll make me feel old," Sirius protested.

"You are old," Harry threw back, conversationally as he leaned against the wall. "Let's see… we just celebrated your… which birthday was it?"

"Twenty-fifth," Sirius said firmly.

"How long are you going to be twenty-five?" Remus asked, a smile gracing his features.

"The rest of my life," Sirius said, and all the men in the room laughed.

"I've got some news that will really make you feel old," Harry said in the silence.

"Don't tell me. Let me guess." Sirius closed his eyes and leaned back into the pillow. "James and Mick have got their first detention. Don't worry, old man, it's all down hill from here."

Harry smiled. "Apparently they're much better at not getting caught than you were, Sirius. I haven't received any disciplinary notices from the school." 

"It won't be long now," Sirius shot back confidently. " Just you wait. Then you'll have to pretend to not be amused."

"I look forward to it," Harry said. "However, you're not even close."

"I'm not?" Sirius bit his lip thoughtfully, for once forgetting the beeping sounds that normally drove him crazy, forgetting the pain that was spreading through his body. "You got a dog!"

"I have one of those. He spends the night at my house at least once a month," Harry said, referencing Sirius's tendency to spend a lot of time with the Potter children.

"Har har. Very funny. Out with it, man."

"Ginny's pregnant."

There was silence in the room, and then Remus and Sirius broke out laughing.

"I should have guessed it! You're not a rabbit, you know," Sirius told Harry, trying to be serious, though his eyes and wide smile gave him away.

"Anna's going to flip," Remus said. "She swore to me that you two were done. She thought that no two sane people would want any more children than you've got. Come to think of it… she owes me a back rub for that."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "You know you've been married too long when you have to make bets to get your wife to touch you."

Remus narrowed his eyes in mock anger. "This from the man who has never settled down." He instantly regretted his words.

"I just haven't met the right woman yet. Being an old bachelor suits me," Sirius said, and stretched his hands above his head.

"Right," Harry murmured. "Oh, I have something for you."

From his robe, he drew out a piece of parchment that was addressed in royal blue ink.

"Who's it from?" Sirius asked, instantly curious.

"Jessica," Harry said with a smile. "Ginny and I checked to make sure it doesn't sing."

"Why didn't she just mail it directly to me?"

Harry grinned. "She lost the address."

"Sounds like her mother," Remus muttered.

"I agree, but don't tell her I said that," Harry whispered back.

Joy lit Sirius's face as he scanned the letter.

_Dear Grandpa Sirius,_

_School so far has been just like you told me! Lots of opportunities for pranks, and we've already managed to pull a few good ones. I've made some new friends here, and being in Gryffindor is really amazing._

_Uncle Ron's class is the best! We learn all sorts of neat things, and he's a lot different in the classroom than he is when we're at home. You know how he always looks sort of lost…? Well, here in class he knows exactly what he's doing. You don't even really notice his limp!_

_We almost got caught last night sneaking back from planting a dung bomb in Deputy Headmaster Snape's office last night. Fortunately, Uncle Ron was on patrol, and you can hear him from a million miles away… when he wants you to._ _The expression on his face at breakfast this morning makes us think that he knew what we were up to._

_Told you he was awesome._

_Now, you absolutely have to get better. I've got all sorts of things planned for the Christmas holiday, and I need your help. Your confidential help! No telling Mum or Dad. I guarantee you it will be Marauder-quality._

_I've got to go now, class is about to start! I don't want Snape to take this letter so I'd have to rewrite it!_

_Love from your granddaughter,_

_Jessica Potter _

"She's a chip off the old block, a few generations back," Sirius announced as he folded the precious letter. A piece of paper fell from the envelope, which was a shockingly accurate sketch of Snape's face. Sirius was guessing it was post-dung bomb incident. "Don't worry, little Jess. I'm getting better. I promise."  

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	12. Delia and Jessica

_Author's Note: Certain portions of this chapter contain adult language and ideas. If you can't handle them, I apologize. If you think I crossed the line, feel free to take it up with me personally at **fryingpans@phoenixsong.net**. I'd be more than happy to discuss it with you._

Chapter Twelve: Delia and Jessica

Delia found that she didn't want to open her eyes. She was sure that if she opened them, there would be light -- demanding, harsh, unforgiving light. Light that she didn't want to face. 

She couldn't remember what happened. She did, however, remember that something had gone wrong. The urge to discover whether her friends were okay or not drove her to finally open her eyes.

"Ah, so you've decided to come around," a soft male voice with a Scottish accent whispered to her. "There's a good lass."

The voice made her feel warm and comfortable. Safe. She smiled as her eyes tried to bring the world back into focus. "Who are you?" she asked weakly, once she could work her mouth again.

"My name is Ian. You're in the hospital wing here at Hogwarts."

Delia nodded slowly. "Are you…?"

"I'm a third year," Ian said, a slow grin covering his face. "Madam Pomfrey is training me, in place of Divination or Care of Magical Creatures."

"My friends!" Delia suddenly tried to sit up, as she had just remembered why she'd woken up in the first place. "Where is Gareth?"

"Relax, lass, it's quite late, you know. They had to leave for supper."

"What about Gus?" She felt a bit relieved.

Ian looked blank. "Gus? There was only the two Potter boys, their sister, and your brother when they brought you."

"Oh, okay," she murmured. "Listen, I'm just going to lie here for a while."

Ian chuckled. "I understand. Madam Pomfrey will be here when you awake."  
  


"Thank you, Ian."

"You're welcome, lass."

It seemed that she had just returned to the land of winkin', blinkin' and nod when there was a quiet thump from the opposite end of the hospital wing. Delia woke instantly. 

"Who's there?"

"It's just me," a saucy voice answered her. "Don't worry about a thing."

"Why can't I see you?"

Jessica threw off the Invisibility Cloak with a flourish and stood before Delia with mischief shining in her green eyes. "I borrowed an old… artifact from my father's school days. My real father."  

Delia nodded. "I knew who you meant."

"The boys don't know I've come to see you."

Delia giggled. "Oh, what fun! I think Madam Pomfrey wants me to stay here until morning."

"Of course she does! You scared me to death, you know. Girls are a precious enough commodity in our little group of friends." Jessica winked one eye at Delia. "Now, tell me about that absolutely adorable aide that was attending to you earlier."

"Jessica," Delia protested weakly. 

"Well, he _was _cute," Jessica said defensively. "_And_ he did spend a good deal of time talking to you."

Delia closed her eyes. "It wasn't anything. What happened to Gus?"

Jessica grinned so wide her face nearly split.

"What happened?" Delia tried to rise up, eager to see what amused her friend so. 

"Lie back down or I won't tell you a single thing. I swear it."

Delia puffed her fringe out of her eyes with a single stream of breath. "All right. Now, tell me what happened."

Jessica leaned forward on her elbows, which she placed on Delia's bedside, and began to chuckle. "Oh, it was too funny.

"James, Mick, and Gareth all decided it would be too conspicuous to have a house-elf following us around everywhere we go, so before we brought you up here, we had to figure out what to do with him until we can get this thing all sorted out.

"James told us to go on ahead up here with you. He knew just where to hide our good Mr. Gruthersford." 

Delia once again tried to sit up, but Jessica pushed her back firmly. "Stay right where you are."

"Yes, Mum," Delia muttered.

"Do you know the story about Moaning Myrtle?" Jessica asked Delia, quite seriously.

"Mick told me a bit the other day," Delia admitted. "What's that got to do with Gus… oh, no! He didn't!"

Jessica tried to hold back her laughter so they wouldn't be caught, so her eyes started to overflow with tears as she nodded. "Mr. Gruthersford will spending some time getting to know Myrtle. At least until we can get you down there and work out what's what."

Delia smiled. "That will certainly test his loyalty."

Jessica nodded, and they began to giggle together, and then the sound of a door creaking open interrupted them. They both paused immediately, not making any motions. 

"I've got to get out of here," Jessica whispered to Delia.

"Go quickly," Delia whispered back. "I don't want you to get caught."

Delia watched anxiously as Jessica slipped on the Invisibility Cloak and crept out the door. 

**

Jessica checked the map carefully before she stepped out in the corridor. There wasn't anyone to be seen, but she looked both ways, just to be sure. She had a feeling one of the adults in her life might have modified the map so it would be on _their_ side, rather than the children's. 

She really wasn't tired, and the next day she didn't have class… there really wasn't any reason why she should go back to her bed right away. With a chuckle, Jessica folded the map and put in her pocket, and set about exploring.

Jessica had been wandering for some time when she heard quiet voices just behind her. It only took a moment for her to recognize them. 

"Professor Snape. How nice to see you."  The first voice was young, quiet, and somehow well bred. 

"Lupin," the second voice practically sneered, oily in its rhythm. "A bit late for you to be out, don't you think?"

"No, I'm afraid not," Orion replied, amusement on the fringes of his voice. 

"I'm sorry, I quite forgot, you're a professor now. Here I was, preparing to give you a detention."

"I rather think it's a bit late for that, don't you, Severus?"

Jessica could hear the strangled sound that Snape made in the back of his throat at Orion's usage of his first name, and she stuffed her fist in her mouth. She couldn't move now. Firstly, this was too entertaining, and secondly, to move would mean sure detection. Listening to the rest of the conversation was her only option.

"Yes, yes it is, _Mr._ Lupin. It's quite obvious that nobody on the board of directors cares for my opinion, either, otherwise you wouldn't be here at all."

"Perhaps, Severus, if you weren't so prejudiced against everything having to do with James Potter, the board of directors would be more likely to believe that you only had the school's best interest in mind. Besides, I'm the only Seer around. You don't want another pretender teaching the school Divination, do you?"

"Watch your mouth, boy."

"I've spent a great deal of my life doing just that, sir. However, when it comes to the Potter children, I'm afraid I'm not going to be able to do so."

"Are you suggesting something, Lupin?"

"I'm not suggesting anything, _Severus,_ I'm not even implying. I'm telling you, straight to your face, that those Potter children have been through enough in their life. I would suggest you be as fair to them as possible."

"I've never been anything but fair to any of my students."

Orion's tone was gentle. "You would see it that way, wouldn't you, Severus?"

"You're not making any sense, Lupin."

"James Potter is dead. Harry is older than James was when James died. Don't you think it's about bloody time you stopped punishing him?"

"You have no right to speak to me that way!"

"You have no right to look down on me because my father hung out with James, or because my mother wouldn't date you."

Jessica peered around the corner and watched Severus's face lose all its color. 

"You don't know anything about that." 

"Of course not, Severus. Then again, it's hard to tell what I might _really_ know, isn't it? When you've got a living Pensive walking around, you never know if your memories are safe, do you?"

Severus took a step back. "You've got too many morals to looking into scenes from the past you've no business looking into."

Orion chuckled harshly. "My morals have nothing to do with, Severus. I suddenly see what you've failed to understand. _I don't have a bloody choice._ I never have, and I can't stop myself from Seeing what I don't want to See."

"Can't you just stop it?" Severus was sounding a little desperate.

"The second you can figure it out, you let me know," Orion leaned back against the wall, and looked directly at Jessica. If she hadn't been wearing the Invisibility Cloak, she would have sworn he saw her.

Snape suddenly drew himself up. "It doesn't matter, Lupin. You can't prove a thing, and I've never treated any of the Potter children any differently than I would anyone else."

"Good. You can leave Jessica alone, too."

Snape turned quickly towards him. "Watch yourself, Lupin. You don't want to step over the line."

"I don't think there's much danger in me doing that, Severus."  
  


"Besides, Jessica's not really a Potter. She's the daughter of that excuse for a Slytherin, Draco Malfoy, and a Muggle, for heaven's sake."

"Nobody knows for sure what Cassandra was, Severus, and besides, she's a Potter at heart."

" 'Potter at heart.' Bah. Bloodlines count, whether you Gryffindors want to accept it or not."

"That's a rather antiquated point of view, don't you think?" Orion shot back at him.

"Muggle scientists have recently taken to discussing these things called 'genes', Professor Lupin--something we wizards and witches have known about for a long time. These genes shape all our characteristics, including our personalities. You get your genes from your parents, Professor Lupin. Not the ones that raised you, the ones that gave you life."

"That's exactly the sort of philosophy that got Salazar Slytherin removed from Hogwarts, Professor Snape."

"Is it now?"

"It is."

"Yet, you don't deny that she was indeed Draco Malfoy's bastard, a man that those who love you despised, the child of a monster."

"You see, Severus, that is where you and I disagree." Orion's cultured, even voice cut through Snape's almost desperate one. "It's quite one thing to be a child of a monster. It's another entirely to be a monster. I bid you good night."

The two men separated, and where words had once filled the air of the corridor, silence replaced it, and the oxygen thickened around Jessica.

_The child of a monster._

_Draco Malfoy's bastard._

_You Gryffindors._

_A monster's bastard._

Suddenly, Jessica couldn't stand the voices any longer. Without any regard for who or what could be in the corridor with her, she took off running.  
  


The tears in her eyes made colors blend together, but she wasn't paying attention to what she could see. There was only the feeling of her feet hitting the corridor floor and the rhythm of her breathing falling somewhere in between each step.

Soon, the pounding in her ears drowned out all outside sound. She could only hear her heart beat, pushing blood to all the systems of her body.

_A monster's bastard._

Maybe Snape was right. Maybe she wasn't really a Potter. Perhaps she didn't deserve to even have the name Potter. She would turn out to be a monster like her father.

Nobody knows what Cassandra was… 

Nobody knew what her mother was… perhaps there was some redeemable quality there. Her mind quickly ruled that out. Nobody ever spoke of this Cassandra woman in flattering terms. How could they?

_A monster's bastard._

She was vaguely aware of passing the Gryffindor common room as she flew down the corridor at a speed she was certain not even the Roman gods had achieved. 

Some part of her thought that she could run these, these, _genes_ out of her body, these things that made her _wrong,_ if she could only go faster, faster, and faster. 

She was panting, desperately trying to fill her lungs with air when she realized a presence behind her.

Suddenly, there was a soothing hand on her back. Jessica felt as though she were on fire, with no sign of water in sight. Her stomach threatened to rebel against the unusual exercise.

"Breathe. Don't worry about anything else just now. Take a calming breath," a vaguely familiar voice instructed her.

"I… I can't get air," Jessica gasped.

"That's because you're trying to hard. Breathe in through your nose, now. Come on, there's a good girl. No, don't try to talk. Just breathe."

Drawing a shaky breath, Jessica finally rose to her full height again. "A…Aunt Hermione?"

**

A/N: Did anyone catch the J.D. Robb reference?

Thanks, everyone, for reading! Groups.yahoo.com/group/testedinfirefans/ is a great way for you to leave your review! I'll probably even reply! 


	13. Half Moon

_For Anne, because she's been wonderful. _

**Chapter Thirteen: Half Moon**

"Well, is she dead yet?" 

The thin, shivering man winced at the low throaty voice. "No, my lord, she's not." 

There was a brief pause. "Is there a reason for this incompetence?"

The man blinked. Lord Voldemort had never asked for reasons, which was one of the main problems many of the old Death Eaters had a problem with this new leader. They wanted to go back to the old ways. They didn't understand that there simply weren't enough of them left to kill off those devoted to the cause in the name of discipline.

"Yes, my lord. She's too well protected."

"Well protected? I thought we had this issue covered."

"I, that is to say, we, can't break through the Ministry defenses. It seems Granger and Potter passed the resolution to upgrade the security in the main office."

The Dark Lord stepped into the light, and as always, the man was a little disgusted by the appearance of the head of the Death Eaters. 

"Don't sneer at me in that fashion," Bellatrix Lestrange snapped. "Show some respect!" 

Immediately, the man fell to his knees, but he couldn't help but notice that years of _dracus _root abuse had worn what was once at least passable to something from a Muggle freak show. Clumps of dark hair had fallen out in scattered areas, her nose was red, chapped, and swollen from the bridge to the tip. Her eyes were wild, and her hands never rested. The one time mistress to the Dark Lord had fallen to a pit of graceless indignity. 

_Damn Cassandra for what she's done to us,_ the man thought.

"There is no reason why Raina O'Reilly should still be alive. I want her dead, and I want her dead quickly! She's the only hope my dear _cousin_ has of surviving. Luckily, the woman's denser than lead. If she's not dead by morning, someone else will be. In her place."

There was quiet in the room, and nobody moved.

Slowly, the man nodded. "Yes, my lord."

Bellatrix grinned, and the man nearly recoiled from the scent of her breath. "That's what I like to hear." 

Once again, the man deferred, "Yes, my lord," but he couldn't help but think of the time when others would call _him Lord of all Dark magic. The day was approaching quickly, and Bellatrix, the current "Dark Lord", didn't know what was coming._

**

Harry grinned at Ron, who was lounging in his quarters in Hogwarts, nursing a glass of good Odgen's Firewhiskey. 

"So, how do you like teaching, then?" Harry asked, swirling the clear liquid around in his own glass absentmindedly. 

"Kids today are a lot more inventive than you or I ever were," Ron said, and closed his eyes. "The places they think to pull pranks… I've never seen the like. With the exception of Fred and George, perhaps."

"Fred and George were… unique," Harry agreed. "The question to ask is, has anyone got away with anything yet?"

Ron smiled proudly. "Please, mate. You don't think I've gone soft in my week away from the job, do you? Of course nobody's got away with a prank on my watch. They've come close, the little buggers, but nothing too serious."

The door opened, and in walked a very distraught Jessica and a somewhat frazzled Hermione, who blinked when she saw Harry.

"Oh, hello. I didn't know you were here."

"What's going on?" Harry rose to his feet immediately.

Hermione sighed, and whispered to Jessica, "Love, the bathroom's round the corner. Why don't you go wash your face?" 

Harry was startled to see Jessica actually obey Hermione. Normally she didn't allow adults to treat her like a child.

"Hermione?"

"She overheard a conversation that she probably shouldn't have," Hermione said, by way of explanation, and settled herself on the arm of Ron's lounging chair.

"About what?" Harry demanded.

"Orion and Severus were having a… confrontation. She won't tell me much about it." Hermione took a deep breath. "Apparently there was talk about her natural parents. Something was said about her illegitimacy, and Draco's illness…"

"If you can call that an illness," Ron muttered.

"I suppose she thinks that Severus assumes that she's also that way," Hermione concluded.

Harry gritted his teeth. "I would get angry about her being out of bounds in the middle of the night, but we never followed that rule ourselves." Fisting his hands, he fought the urge to punch something. "Why can't Orion and Severus have their little tiffs in _private, for Merlin's sake?"_

Ron raised his eyebrows. "I wasn't aware there was any tension between Severus and Orion to begin with."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "For someone who's paid to observe danger, sometimes you can be a little bit clueless, darling."

Ron shrugged helplessly. "I can't help it. I never really paid much attention to Orion to begin with anyway. We haven't had time to socialize with the Lupins in a long time."

"There's definitely something going on there," Hermione said. "I'm not sure what it is though." 

Harry rose to his feet quickly. "Hush. Here comes Jessica."

Sure enough, they heard the distinctive sound of shoe bottoms hitting the stone floor. "Dad?"

Holding out his arms wide, Harry tried to smile and found that he couldn't. They both knew it was time they really talked about where Jessica came from. 

Jessica's relief at seeing her father, her _real father, she told herself firmly, was so great that she took a running leap to reach his embrace. "Dad," she whispered when she got there, as if convincing herself that it was the truth._

"Let's go for a walk, hmm?" As usual, Harry's deep and calm voice brought her back to the edge of sanity. 

"All right," she whispered, and grasped his hand firmly. Together, they walked out of the Weasleys' chambers.

"I miss that blind faith," Hermione murmured. "You know, the time when you just knew that Mum and Dad could make it all wonderful again?"

Ron smiled. "I kind of like being the bloke who gets to make it wonderful, myself," he admitted, gesturing towards the rooms where their children peacefully slept, at least for tonight.

"Somebody's got to have a word with Minerva about Severus and Orion," Hermione said swiftly before her heart melted too much.

Ron finished off his glass with a flourish. "It's got to be stressful," he said and headed towards the kitchen. 

"What?" Hermione asked, wanting him to finish his thought.

"Being a sixteen or seventeen year old professor when your dad's dying and mum's not that far behind."

Hermione gasped and then chided him, "Ron, they're not that bad off."

Ron raised an eyebrow. "They're not? Hermione, sometimes I think that for someone who gets paid to observe, you don't see very much."

"Touché," Hermione mumbled. "Still that doesn't excuse him picking a fight with Severus…"

"I think the blame lies more with Severus for letting him, don't you think?"

Hermione let out a frustrated sigh. "Ron, sometimes you surprise me."

Grinning, Ron made a broad gesture with his hands. "Shall we retire, madam?" His voice lowered suggestively. "I'm sure I could _surprise_ you in our bedchamber."

Hermione blushed, but recovered quickly enough. "You could, eh? Lead me there then!"

**

Raina moved quietly down the hallway in St. Mungo's Hospital. She was going to visit Sirius Black, whom she had become quite attached to, in spite of herself. Now she found herself asking all sorts of uncomfortable questions that she didn't particularly want to answer. Questions that she had had since her parents' death.

She took a deep breath and inhaled the sterile scent and feeling of the hospital. How anyone could survive while they were here was beyond her. Just stepping inside made her feel cramped, uncomfortable.

_What would your Aurors think if they knew you were deathly afraid of something?_ The annoying voice in the back of her head berated her. _Pull yourself together._

"I'm trying to," she whispered fiercely. "I hate hospitals."

"I do too." 

Raina looked up, startled. "Oh, Sirius, thank Merlin. You scared me half to death."

He was leaning against his doorway, and his face was pale, ashen, much worse than it had been just yesterday when she'd been here. It took her by surprise, and though she tried to hide it, Sirius could see that she had noticed.

"The state I'm in would scare anyone," he admitted gruffly.

"Don't say that!" Raina found her voice rising in a near panic, and fought it back. "You're going to get better. I just know it."

Sirius grinned. "I survived hell for twelve years. I think I can tackle an illness."

Raina nodded, not saying what was running through her mind. Those had been _external_ threats. She could fight back external threats with him, for him. He could fight those off on his own. He had a remarkable ability to shut down emotionally, she noticed. 

This illness, however, was internal. It was literally eating him from within. Just yesterday the doctors had told her what was happening. Sirius's blood was slowly clotting; his organs were slowly suffocating. 

He couldn't eat enough because his metabolism burned the calories so fast, and he had no appetite because his stomach was full of mucus.  He was coughing blood, and if the doctors couldn't work out what was happening…

Abruptly, she shut down that line of thought. That wouldn't help Sirius.

"You need to be in bed, mister. You've got to save your energy."

Shrugging, Sirius tried to act nonchalant. "I've always said I wanted to die quickly."

Raina's eyes narrowed. "If you want to die quickly, I can do the job for you. Now, get into bed."

Startled, Sirius's eyes widened, and then he grinned, and the effect was, even in his illness, devastating. "Yes, mother."

Raina chuckled. "Very funny, but I wasn't joking. Move."

"All right." Sirius nearly stamped as he entered the room, but the childishness of the action prevented him from doing so. "You didn't have to be so pushy."

"I didn't?" Raina raised an eyebrow. "That's news to me."

Sirius nearly didn't hear her, because he almost collapsed on the bed. 

"Do you need help?"

Sirius closed his eyes and swallowed his pride. "I can't lift my legs onto the bed."

Raina nodded, then moved over to the bed. His upper half lay on the bed, his chest heaving. "Right then. On the count of three. One. Two. Three!" With some amount of effort, she lifted his legs onto the bed.

Completely exhausted, Sirius just lay there on the bed, not moving. 

"What were you doing out of bed, anyway?"

"I was looking for you," he responded without opening his eyes. "You were later than usual."

Raina smiled. "I'm terribly sorry about that. I got held up at work and…"

"Damn it, I don't want you to feel obligated to come here!"

"I don't feel obligated. If I felt obligated, I wouldn't stay as long as I do. I wouldn't come here willingly. I'd call you with odd excuses of why I couldn't make it. I'm terrible at making up stories."

"I can tell you don't like being here, so…"

"I don't like being here because it means that you're too sick to live on your own! I know how much your freedom means to you, Sirius, and…"

"Why did you come here the first time?" Sirius interrupted her.

"I came here because I needed to speak with Harry and Ron."

"You didn't come here because you wanted to get a look at me? The ex-convict your father spent all of his last years trying to catch?" Sirius's voice was cold, hard, and demanding. Raina had known this side of him existed, it just caught her off guard to be on the receiving end of it. In fact, his interrogating skills were legendary, but that didn't mean she had to stand for it.

"No. If I'd wanted to do that, I would have spoken to Harry about it."

"Why do you keep coming, then?"

"Because you need someone to love you, damn it!" Raina cursed herself for opening her mouth and saying the first thing that came to mind. 

"No, I don't," Sirius said with a degree of finality that made Raina want to cry, but she wasn't going to back down.

"Like hell you don't. You're like some little lost puppy, hanging around Harry and Ginny because you exist off the glow that they exude because they're so much in love. I'll bet you did the same thing with James and Lily.

"You're always talking about how much Remus didn't think he deserved love, but I think you've got the same problem, Mr. Black. I can't say that I disagree with you. You don't deserve for me to love you, but there isn't a blasted thing I can do about it, so you're just going to have to deal with it."

Sirius blinked, then charged on ahead. "I never said anything…"

"You never said anything because you never say anything that might give away that you can still feel pain," Raina shot back with a degree of venom in her voice that Sirius had never encountered before.

"Sometimes I don't think that I can." Sirius's voice had gone from being so strong to immediately being so weak that Raina was startled. "You don't know what happened."

"I don't know because you haven't told me," Raina reminded him, more gently this time. "Why don't you? Why don't you make it so that I can understand?"

"It starts with my mother," Sirius said, and began to tell his story. "She was very narrow-minded, very Malfoy-like in her obsession with pure bloodlines and Muggle hatred. My father was never really around, so I was raised around that atmosphere. 

"Things changed in nursery school. I met James Potter, and we clicked. He was also a child of a pureblooded wizarding family, but his views were so different from mine. He, for instance, was thrilled when the Wizarding Wireless Network started up, rather than appalled that we were starting something so Muggle-like. 

"Then he took me to his home, and I met his parents… and there was love in that household. There'd never been love in mine. We all tolerated each other because of family loyalty. I began to think that maybe my parents were wrong about some things.

"Hogwarts changed my mind forever. Suddenly, we were all on an even playing field. All of us knew nothing about magic, or how to work it. James was immediately brilliant, and I lagged on his heels. 

"We grew up there, and we began to like girls. James knew straight away that Lily Evans was the girl for him, and though he took his time letting her know that he was right, no one doubted it by the time they were engaged.

"As for me, I struggled with liking just one girl. My good looks kept the girls coming, at least at first.

"Then I met Elizabeth Scardon. 

"She was everything I'd promised myself I would never get involved with. Slytherin, and very, very much like my mother. The attraction was undeniable, however, and we rarely spent time just talking. I thought that she was changing.

"Then the war began. That's where things get complicated. She ran off with a reporter from the _Daily Prophet_ the night before I was going to ask her to be my wife."

Raina blinked. "Sirius, I…"

He continued on as though he had not heard her. "Like you said, I got very attached to Lily and James. The five of spent a lot of time together, and I was thrilled when James told me that I was going to be the best man at his wedding. He told me I was the brother he'd never had. 

"At first they were going to wait until after the war, but then things didn't look so good. They came to us one evening, told us that they'd set a date a month in the future. Voldemort was after them, and they at least wanted a chance to start a life. Before something happened.

"Of course, no one knew how soon something would happen that would change everything."

Blindly, Sirius reached for a glass of water to calm himself. He found himself struggling to breath. Nothing came easy anymore.

Seeing his distress, Raina held out a hand, and grasped his firmly. "Sirius… rest. I'll be here when you wake up."

"Do you promise?"

"Yes."

**

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	14. Interlude: Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep

_"The Prayer Before Bedtime" is one that I was taught as a small child. I have no idea who the prayer is accredited to, only that generations of Catholic children in my family have said it every night before bedtime to insure our souls' journey to Heaven. I thought it fitting for the situation described in the story._

_This ficlet is dedicated to those who never got a chance at life, and to those who are living but are not alive._

Interlude: If I Should Die Before I Wake

Now I lay me down to sleep…

Remus moved slowly towards the bed where he had made his last transformation into the wolf that he so detested and had to become once every month. Now he was almost done. Now it was almost over. He knew it, Anna knew it. 

"Why don't you rest, love?"

Remus smiled. "I think I'll be doing enough of that shortly."

"Remus…" Anna couldn't bear to hear such words from her husband. "Don't talk like that. The doctors said…"

"The doctors said it depended on a number of factors. I think I know, love."

Grasping his hand, Anna fought the urge to cry. "I'm not ready for you to go."

"I'll meet you beyond the veil, love. It won't be that long in the grand scheme of things."

"What about Orion? He needs you… he needs us."

Remus closed his eyes. "I know, I know. You and he are the reasons I've stayed alive this long. You know that without you I would have given up much sooner. But now, I don't have a choice."

"You do. You always have a choice…"

"This time it's been made for me."

Anna nodded. "I see. It's just hard."

"I know. But I'll be watching you, I promise."

I pray the Lord my soul to keep… 

Anna smiled, though it was a stretch. "Do you want me to call Harry and Sirius?"

Remus shook his head. "No, Sirius is too sick, and knowing the stubborn blighter, he would insist on coming. There's no need for long good-byes. I think that it would just make it harder on everyone, anyway."

"Orion?"

"Just you, love. Just you. I don't think we have enough time for Orion to get here."

Anna swallowed. "All right. Just me."

"Do you remember our first kiss?" Remus asked, his eyes twinkling with remembered adolescent love… or lust. 

Anna giggled. "I do."

The Gryffindor common room was quiet, and a young Anna Black had finally found a place to settle with her book. Things had been getting complicated as of late, and she just needed to clear her mind, and nothing could do that better than her worn copy of "Little Women", one of the Muggle books Lily had let her borrow. Even though it was set in the American Civil War, an event Anna knew very little about, she could still relate to the characters. 

A movement that shouldn't have been there caught her eye. Slowly, she put the book down and concentrated on what some would call her "Inner Eye."

She opened her eyes quickly, as all things magical became clear to her. The Marauders were out and about in the Invisibility Cloak. Nothing about the movement would harm her.

As the movement of the air that had originally caught her attention moved past her, she whispered, "Good night, boys."

Immediately, all motion stopped, and she grinned. From out of nowhere, a voice whispered to her, "What are you doing out of bed?"

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm reading. The question is, what are you doing out of bed, Sirius Black?"

"Causing mischief, of course."

"Of course," Anna agreed, and opened her book with an air of finality. "Good night, boys."

They vanished as though they had never been there up the staircase, and Anna returned to reading, until she felt something light against the back of her neck.

She turned around quickly, prepared to fight off whatever it was that had touched her. What she got was a close up look at Remus Lupin. 

"Hello," she whispered hoarsely. 

He grinned wolfishly. "Hello yourself."

"What are you doing down here?"

"Talking with you," he responded, as though it were the most obvious thing on the planet.

"Yes, but why?"

"Because I like you."

"Oh." Anna blushed.

"What would you do if I kissed you now?"

Anna swallowed. This was most unlike Remus. Her mind quickly calculated the time until the full moon, and it all became clear. "I… I don't know."

Remus smiled. "Would you let me, I wonder?"

"Would you try, I wonder?" Anna countered.

"Oh, most definitely." 

With a deft movement, he captured her jaw with his fingers and tilted her chin up. Their lips met with some degree of awkwardness. Soon the sensation became familiar, and Anna really began to enjoy the feeling of his rough lips against her smooth ones. When it was over, Anna almost wanted to weep at the loss of such a thing.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

Anna raised her eyes. "Why?" 

"That wasn't like me and I…"

"Don't you make excuses, Remus Lupin. Did you think I would let you kiss me if I didn't want you to?" 

Remus blinked. "Well, I just…"

"Good night," she said firmly, and then began to climb up the stairs to the girls' dormitory.

"You were bossing me around even then," Remus chided.

"You needed it, even then," Anna teased back.

"I loved you. I still love you. I didn't deserve you, and I still don't."

Anna grinned and felt wet tears begin to slide down her cheeks. "I love you, and you do deserve me. I'm the one that doesn't deserve you."

Remus smiled, a little amused. "Neither one of us deserves the other, it would seem."

"What a shame," Anna said, and leaned in to kiss her husband. Like the first time, the sensations almost blew her away, but unlike that far off time, there was no awkwardness this time. The years had taught them exactly how their lips fit together.

"Come join me," Remus whispered, and laid his hand on the spot next to him on the bed.

If I should die before I wake…

Anna climbed into bed next to him, their bodies fitting together. Even their chests rose and fell at the same time. It was disturbing to her how much Remus seemed to struggle to get through a sentence.

"Thank you," Remus whispered. "For loving me, and giving me a second chance."

"You didn't need a second chance. I'll always belong to you."

Remus smiled, and then inhaled a shuddery breath. "I love you, Anna, my wife."

I pray the Lord my soul to take.

Before Anna could answer, he was gone, his arm still around her body, his hand still in hers. With a quiet dignity, she sat up slowly, refusing to allow the tears just yet. Remus deserved for her to be strong.


	15. Potter Family Scrapbook

A Note From Chi: Most of this chapter was written by someone who is quickly turning into a very good friend of mine, KC. You may know him as "The Daily Prophet Reporting". He's written an amazing story, "The Season", which can be found at the Phoenix Song. I encourage all of my loyal fans to check him out, though you may not return to read mine once you get a taste of his.  
  
You can find his comments at the end of this chapter. But I wanted to publicly thank him first for working through what was going to be a difficult chapter for me! Thanks much!  
  
Chapter Fifteen: Potter Family Scrapbook  
  
From the Daily Prophet of 3 October, 2015  
  
Announcement of Death  
  
Remus Lupin, 56. Survivors: Anne Marie Black Lupin, wife. Son, Orion Albus Lupin. Funeral arrangements to be announced 4 October. In lieu of flowers, send a donation to the Werewolf Research Fund.  
  
From the Daily Prophet of 3 October, 2015  
  
Werewolf passes into history  
  
Noted professor, war hero Lupin dies at 56  
  
By KC Allen  
  
The man who spent a lifetime just beyond the curtain in the background of history has passed beyond the veil.  
  
Remus Lupin, a close associate of many prominent witches and wizards and an influential actor in many of the most important events of the last four decades, died Friday of complications from a long struggle with lycanthropy. He was 56 years old.  
  
Though best known for his friendship with three generations of the celebrated Potter family and his role in the struggle against Voldemort, Lupin's impact was far-reaching. He trained a generation of young warlocks and witches as a professor at Hogwarts and was a silent motivation in the drive for the rights of magical creatures.  
  
"I was honoured to be able to call Remus my friend,." Harry Potter said in a statement released by his sometime employer, the Magical Law Enforcement Squad. "He was an amazing man."  
  
And he did it living the double life of a werewolf. A life that denied him employment, trust and companionship for long stretches of his early adulthood and left him questioning his own worth until his last days.  
  
"My father had a hard life," said Lupin's son, Orion. "He accomplished so many things but he never truly appreciated them because he never got past the shame that goes with his disease. Everyone else respected him. The stigma was something he held onto himself."  
  
It was in the darkest of times that Lupin did the most to earn the respect of the rest of the wizarding community. As Voldemort began his second ascension in 1995, Lupin spent over a year helping organize the Order of the Phoenix's resistance from behind the scenes.  
  
"Remus was among the first to answer the call," fellow Order member Arthur Weasley said. "Because he didn't have a lot of things tying him down, he was able to put a lot of effort into the Order. Without the hard work of people like him, Sirius (Black) and, of course, Professor (Albus) Dumbledore, Voldemort would have won in that first year."  
  
But in spite of their struggle, the Dark tide kept rising. When Lupin took over the positions of groundskeeper and Care for Magical Creatures professor at Hogwarts in September 1996, the Dark Lord's march toward domination appeared unstoppable.  
  
It was against that backdrop of terror and death that a desperate search to find a way to destroy the seemingly indestructible was begun. Lupin was instrumental in the process, and four months later as the climactic battle was fought on the streets of Hogsmeade, he cut short his honeymoon to share in the historic confrontation.  
  
The bulk of the credit for the triumph of the Light goes to the legendary Harry Potter and his wife, Ginny Weasley, for casting the spell that vanquished Voldemort, and to Neville Longbottom for giving his life to make it possible. But Lupin and a handful of others risked their lives in the background, holding back the feared Death Eaters until the Dark Lord's fall.  
  
"We all owe Mr. Lupin a debt of gratitude," Minister of Magic Percy Weasley said in a sombre news conference at the Ministry. "When our society was in great peril, he fought bravely and masterfully, and he never claimed credit for his work. His only motivation was victory and peace. His selfless sacrifice -- along with that of a handful of other brave witches and wizards -- is the reason all of us enjoy our freedom today."  
  
Noted barrister Hermione Weasley, recognized as another of the heroes of the conflict for completing the spell that defeated the Dark Lord, Longbottom's Shield, was also quick to share the acclaim she has received with Lupin and others.  
  
"I know I get most of the credit for coming up the spell, but I don't really deserve it," said the sister-in-law to both Potter and the Minister. "Harry's parents (Lily and James Potter) came up with the idea and the entire Hogwarts staff worked to perfect it. I just happened to be the one to come up with the final piece. If it hadn't been for Professor Lupin and the other teachers sharing their insight and providing inspiration, I wouldn't have known where to begin."  
  
Professor Lupin's impact at Hogwarts did not begin or end with the war, however.  
  
After the battle, he continued teaching Care for Magical Creatures for 18 years. By all accounts, he brought great passion to the post and his students thrived on it. He was one of the most beloved members of faculty throughout his tenure.  
  
"Professor Lupin was an outstanding instructor," said the school's Headmistress, Minerva McGonagall. "He had a true gift for his work. That his students held him in such high regard is not surprising considering he had the utmost respect for his students as well."  
  
"I wouldn't be doing what I do if it wasn't for Professor Lupin," added Laura Madley, 32, who works at the Magical Menagerie on Diagon Alley. "His lessons were always exciting, but more importantly, I learned to have respect for all the unique creatures of the magical world. You couldn't help it if you studied under him. That's the kind of teacher he was."  
  
Lupin's first teaching experience at Hogwarts came before the war as Defence Against the Dark Arts professor during the 1993-94 school year. As in subsequent terms, his congenial style won him the admiration of most of the school, among them Harry Potter and his classmates.  
  
"He was one of the finest teachers we ever had," said Hermione Weasley, who was then a third-year Gryffindor and one of Potter's closest friends. "We learned almost as much Defence in our one year with him than we did in our first, second, fourth and fifth years combined."  
  
However, Lupin's lycanthropy became public knowledge near the end of the summer term and he resigned rather than face the scrutiny of distrusting parents.  
  
That fate mirrored much of Lupin's life up until that point. Despite becoming a werewolf at an early age, he was admitted to Hogwarts in 1969 in an avant-garde decision by Headmaster Dumbledore. Lupin was an excellent student in spite of his forced monthly absences and developed a close relationship with a trio of fellow Gryffindors, Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew and James Potter. It was there he also met and fell in love with Black's sister, Anna, with whom he would later become engaged.  
  
But those relatively happy years were tempered by the first war against Voldemort, and when the fighting ended, Lupin's life collapsed around him.  
  
On the infamous Halloween night of 1980, the Dark Lord killed James and Lily Potter and was himself defeated by the then 15-month-old Boy Who Lived. Sirius Black, believed to have been the Potters' Secret Keeper, was blamed and sent to Azkaban without trial after a bloody incident in which a dozen Muggles -- and supposedly Pettigrew -- were killed. Lupin soon broke off his engagement with Anna Black and spent most of the next 12 years wandering in depression and poverty, rarely able to find work because of his condition.  
  
"Those years were really hard him," Orion Lupin said. "He rarely spoke about them but I know he felt totally worthless and alone for a long time."  
  
It was only after he returned to Hogwarts that Lupin's world Transfigured itself into a reasonable approximation of its old shape. Sirius Black escaped from prison and was exonerated after Pettigrew, the Potters' actual betrayer, was captured and imprisoned. Then, at the same time Lupin took the position as Care for Magical Creatures professor, Anna Black became the school's Divination instructor. Their romance quickly rekindled and they were married in December of 1996. Orion, their only child, was born a little more than a year later.  
  
Crippled by the progressive effects of his disease, Lupin retired from Hogwarts in June and spent his last months with his wife.  
  
"(Lupin's) early death is a tragedy," said Harry Potter, whose family has remained close with the Lupins ever since the historic events of 1996. "But I am truly glad he was able to find happiness in his final years. No one deserved that more than Remus."  
  
Yet even death seems unlikely to stop Remus Lupin's achievements. What might be his most lasting contribution to society is still being felt in the movement for the rights of magical creatures.  
  
It was a cause he supported but for which he never actively campaigned. Instead, it was the expertise he showed in the classroom that helped inspire the movement's leaders.  
  
"I saw the way fear and prejudice forced Remus -- one of the kindest and most capable wizards I've ever known -- to the very fringe of society," Hermione Weasley said. "It just wasn't right. Lycanthropy is a terrible disease. But it's completely controllable and it only changes the person one out of every 28 days. Something really needed to be done to ensure werewolves were treated fairly."  
  
Weasley joined with Potter and a number of other influential and progressive witches and wizards to do just that. In 2004, the Werewolf Equality Act became law.  
  
The law did not rid the magical community of all distrust. There was a small group of conservatives who weren't speaking positively of Lupin on Friday.  
  
Still, the Act -- and the ongoing effort to extend rights to other intelligent magical creatures such as centaurs and house elves -- stands out as a legacy for a man who accomplished so much while himself facing the scrutiny that comes with the label "magical creature."  
  
"From the very first time he walked into this school, Professor Lupin had to break down barriers," McGonagall said. "Today, most of those barriers are gone. Wherever he is now, I'm sure knowing that makes him proud." ------------------------------------------------------------------------- KC Allen is the Daily Prophet's national columnist. Owl him at thedpreporting@yahoo.com  
  
From The Daily Prophet 4 October, 2015  
  
Funeral Announcements Remus Lupin- 10:15 a.m. 6 October, 2015 at the Holy St. Jude's Cathedral, Thumblewump.  
  
Guest author's note: My sincerest thanks to Chi for allowing me to dabble in her universe. It's been an honour and a challenge. I just hope I've done her excellent work justice. Oh, and I'm the one who's to blame for the slow- coming updates. I took forever writing this.  
  
In regards for my "amazing story," as wonderful a writer and beta as Chi is, she gives me far too much credit. You're much better off staying here!  
  
-KC 


	16. The Eve Of A Funeral

_For Michelle, whom I love affectionately with all my heart. Best friends always and forever._

Chapter Sixteen: The Eve Of The Funeral

Orion sat at his desk, a professor's desk, with _The Daily Prophet_ sitting in front of him. On the desk sat an empty bottle of Odgen's Firewhiskey and two letters. One was written in deep purple ink from one KC Allen, the author of the article about his father, thanking him for the interview, while the other one was in the emerald ink seemingly favored by both McGonagall and the Potter family. As it was, the other letter was from Special Agent Detective Harry Potter of the Ministry of Magical Law Enforcement.

He didn't really want to read either one of them. In fact, he wanted to crawl into some small crevice of the earth and die. The clock on his wall ticked and tocked, the steady rhythm of it the one thing that he could latch on to. 

_Knock, knock._

At first, Orion discredited the sound. Surely no one would be coming to see him. 

_Knock, knock._

"'Tis some visitor," he muttered, "knocking at my chamber door. Only this and nothing more."

Poe seemed to fit his mood. 

The truth of the matter was that he didn't want to see anyone, didn't want to deal with anyone. For Merlin's sake, his father's funeral was tomorrow morning. Was it too much to ask for to be alone? The worst of his emotions took over, and his mother's good manners were trampled underfoot.

"Go away!" 

His door opened anyway. "Now, is that anyway to talk to me, Orion Albus?"

Leaning against the doorway was the last person on earth Orion wanted to see. Sean Dillon O'Toole was his name, and Orion was convinced he was a changeling, if not something worse.

Orion let loose his breath. "Well, come in, you bloody blighter. Have a fucking seat."

Sean merely raised an eyebrow. "My, my, we are testy tonight. Aren't you going to offer me a drink?" he asked as he crossed the room and sat in a seat opposite Orion's own.

"I would, mate, but I've consumed every drop of alcohol I own."

Sean leaned forward, sniffed Orion's breath. "I don't doubt it. You think that's helping?"

"Listen, mate, the last thing I need right now is a bloody lecture."

"Suit yourself. I've never seen you this far gone into self pity, though."

Orion snorted. "Feeling sorry for myself, am I? My fucking father up and fucking died. I think that's a bloody good reason for me to feel damned sorry for myself."

"You make it sound as though he did it just to spite you," Sean commented, and pulled a fag from his coat pocket. "Your vocabulary is suffering, mate. I've known you to be much more creative than that."

"This is a fucking school."

Sean nodded. "I know that. And it's one that you will never finish."

"You're making me wish I had another bottle of bloody whiskey, O'Toole."

"Regretting your decision already, old friend?" Sean's fingers moved restlessly over the wood of the chair.

Orion shook his head. "No. No bloody regrets about a damned thing."

"Hmm."

"Would you stop pulling that bloody psychiatrist routine on me?"

Sean shrugged this time. "It's my bloody job, mate."

"So did you come here to do your job? Take care of the sick man's son? Ask him some bloody questions about how he was raised, what he's fucking _feeling?"  
  
_

"No, Orion. I came here because I'm your friend. And because I do care, to borrow your phrase, about what you're _fucking feeling._ Does that suit you?"

Wrapping his fist on the wood of his desk once, Orion rose somewhat unsteadily to his feet. "He had to up and die _now_ of all times," he muttered.

"Tell me, Orion, when would it have been more convenient for you?"

"Merlin, you make me sound like a selfish prig."

"I _make you sound like a selfish prig? Something is telling me that you're doing that all by yourself. Without any assistance from anyone." Sean grinned, and Orion couldn't help himself. He chuckled._

"You know, this will kill my mother."

"Do you think?"

Orion sighed, and crossed the room to the window that looked out over the lake. "Oh yes. My parents… I can't imagine one of them functioning without the other."

Sean smiled. "That's a common conception children have about their parents, Orion."

"I keep forgetting you've never met them," Orion mumbled, then shuffled his feet. "My father lived for my mother. He would have given up a long time ago if not for her and Sirius.

"You know, I thought that when Aunt Hermione got her bill passed, Dad would have felt better about himself. Maybe he would walk a little straighter… maybe he would realize that most of the time, the rest of us could simply forget he was a werewolf. It's a damn shame he went without knowing…"

Sean laid a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sure that he knew how much both you and your mother loved him. If nothing else, that would comfort a man greatly. Don't you think so?"

Orion shrugged. "It's just different, it seems, for us, than for anybody else. I grew up knowing that both of my parents were slowly dying… Mum because of the cells that made her what she was, and Dad because he was unfortunate enough to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Somehow, I'd managed to forget. That's all." 

"Do you think that's a bad thing?"

"Gee, I don't know, Doctor," Orion said sarcastically.

"Sorry. It just slips out every now and again. Primitive urges and all that," Sean teased and winked.

"Well, get a hold of yourself." 

"These children need you, Orion." 

Whirling around, Orion faced his friend. "What?"

"I know it's cruel, I know it's not fair, but you've got to get better _now, for the children. There's something wrong going on, tonight. I can feel it. Can you feel it?"_

"Of course I can feel it, man. I'm a bloody Seer, for Merlin's sake. It's just that I…"

Sean stopped him in the middle of his train of thought. "Don't you think that Dark side knew that tonight you wouldn't be fit for anything? Do you think Captain… er, Professor Weasley is much better? You both need to be on your toes tonight."

Orion nodded, feeling a wave of numbness run through him. "All right." He grabbed his cloak and his dragon hide gloves. "Are you coming with me, or are you staying here like the bloody coward I know you are?"

Sean blinked at that. It was amazing how Orion could simply shut off one emotion and replace it with another, until it would be easier to deal with the other feeling. "I'm afraid not, mate. They need me at St. Mungo's. Simply can't function without me and all that other rubbish."

"Coward," Orion accused. 

Sean shrugged. "We're just on different receiving sides of the battle, Orion."

"Right. Well then, I'll see you again."

Sean nodded, his heart breaking inside of his chest. "Aye. I've no doubt of it."

**

St. Mungo's was clean, as usual, sterile, as usual, and Sirius felt as if he were slowly going mad, as usual. Next to him on the bed sat the day's edition of _The Daily Prophet, a letter from Anna, and a message from Harry, written with a quick hand._

In fact, the only one who hadn't expressed condolences to him yet was none other than Commander Raina O'Reilly. The one person he had actually wanted to see after he'd heard the news.

It wasn't as though he hadn't been expecting it – he had, for years now, really. It was no secret that Remus's disease killed… slowly and painfully. 

A cough came up from somewhere deep in his chest, stunning his whole body for a moment before it began to move with the direction of the air coming from his lungs. It forcefully shook him so that he nearly knocked his head against the bed frame.

If the truth were to be told, Sirius was alone and feeling miserable. His body had betrayed him, and now it seemed his heart had, too.

The door opened slowly, and the most wonderful smell in the world wafted in, dazzling Sirius's senses. He turned carefully, so as not to agitate any sore spot, and immediately his face lit up with a grin the likes of which the world had been missing for many years.

"Raina."

"Yes, it's me, and I've brought you lasagna." With a helpless shrug, she crossed the room, slowly removing her cloak and bag. "I didn't know what else to do."

Sirius swallowed, amazed, as always, at her ability to fill out a sweater. "Bringing me lasagna was a good start."

Raina laughed, and the sound of it swept through him like sunshine. Finally, here was someone who was smiling, laughing. "A good start, eh? My mother always said that there was truth to the old adage about men and their stomachs."

"Which one is that?"

"The one that goes something like, 'The best way to get to a man's heart is through his stomach'. You've heard of it, haven't you?" 

"Yes, I'm sure I have. However, all I can think about is how wonderfully _real that lasagna smells. Did you use real cheese?"_

"Heavens, yes."

"Real beef? Like the stuff that comes from cows, not a plant?"

"Is there any other kind?"

"Did you use real pasta? The kind you make from scratch and slave over for hours?"

"I didn't go that far," Raina admitted, "but then again, neither did my mother. We're Irish, for Merlin's sake, not Italian."

Sirius shrugged. "I guess there is a line."

"Why do you ask?"

"Because…" Sirius's voice dropped to a whisper. "Come over here. I'll have to whisper it. Walls and nurses have ears."

Raina couldn't help herself, she giggled. She hadn't giggled in a very long time. It felt marvelous. 

"Raina, I confess, I have very strong suspicions that someone on the hospital kitchen staff is trying to poison me. No, don't laugh, I'm quite serious." 

Raina burst out in a full laugh this time. "Yes, you are serious, Sirius."

Sirius grinned. "You've got me there. I could swear the food here is plastic."

"That's because they're probably more concerned about keeping you alive than they are about making sure your digestive system is feeling happy."

"If my digestive system were more happy, I think I would be out of here by now. No, I'm convinced it's the food that's slowly killing me."

Raina stopped laughing. "Sirius, that's not funny. Take that back."

"Take what back?" Sirius drew his eyebrows together.

"The part about you dying. Take that back."

"Okay, I will. It's officially taken back."

Raina nodded. "Good. That's just the way I want it. You're not about to die on me, Sirius Black. I simply won't allow it."

"I'm sure that even the Grim Reaper is afraid of you, love."

They both stopped again. The use of that endearment would have, should have, been insignificant… but somehow it meant more than it would any other time.

Finding herself bright red to the roots of her hair, Raina stammered, "I…I'm sure he is too."

"Raina, I've a favor to ask of you."

Suddenly suspicious, Raina drew her eyebrows together. "What is it?"

"I've got to get out of this blasted hospital room. I've got to go to Remus's funeral."

"Oh, Sirius…" Raina's voice trailed off. "That wouldn't be good for your health."

"Damn my physical health, Raina. I need to go. For my mental health. Will you sign me out?"

Somehow, Raina felt hoodwinked, blindsided. "I suppose I will. If…"

"If what?"

"If you finish telling me your story."

Sirius leaned back, closed his eyes again. "Where was I?"

"James and Lily were going to get married."

"Ah, yes, that's right. James and Lily… Merlin. What a pair those two made. Have you ever seen my godson around his wife? You know that expression he gets on his face?"

"The goofy one where you think you could knock him over with a feather?"

"That's the one. That's just like the expression James would wear all the time. He never could believe how he got so lucky, and to be honest, neither could any of the rest of us. Pretty soon, James had it all. A beautiful wife, a fantastic job researching Transfiguration spells, specifically Animagus related, at the Ministry, and then, later on, a handsome son the very image of himself. 

"He was still a Gryffindor, still brilliant, still everything that Voldemort despised. It didn't take us long to work out that the Potters were going to be the target of an attack. Most of the Order already had been. By process of elimination, they were next. At first, James and Lily were just going to let him come to him… they were going to write a spell to defeat the Dark Lord.

"They did. It just didn't work out quite like anyone expected.

"Anyway, in the meantime, I convinced them to underground. If Voldemort didn't know where they were, there was no way he could get to them. My logic makes perfect sense, doesn't it?"

"I can't see any flaws in to speak of."

"What really gets me… _really_ gets me, is that we knew there was a traitor. We just knew. I thought it was Remus, for Merlin's sake."

"You didn't!"

"I did. I was, and still am, something of a git.

"I was to be the Potters' Secret Keeper. It was all worked out. Lily and James and Dumbledore had all agreed… it was all nice and fine. Then I got a brilliant idea.

"You see, I was simply too obvious. Anyone that knew James and Lily knew that they would pick me. I thought we would throw the Dark Side for a loop and use the one person no one in their right mind would entrust with their safety."

"Peter Pettigrew."

"Yes."

"Merlin, you must have felt horrible!"

"Oh, I did. We found out the Potters had been betrayed, that someone had given their location away to Voldemort. I knew immediately who it was. So I chased him down with the intent of killing him."

"But you ended up killing all those Muggles…"

"No." Sirius's voice was sharp. "I would never kill an innocent. Peter did that, then sliced off his finger. Everyone would blame it on me, you see. Poor Peter simply didn't have the _talent_ to do things of that nature. I'm sad to say that I did."

"So there ended up being a warrant for your arrest…"

"And Peter went free. You know the rest of the story, I imagine."

"Yes, yes I do." Raina's voice became thoughtful, soft. "I'll take you to Remus's funeral, Sirius. I'll be here in the morning in time to pick you up. You're right. You do need this."

"Thank you, Raina."

She rose, but paused at the doorway. "Sirius?"

"Yes, Raina?"

"If Remus and Harry both forgave you, don't you think it's time you forgave yourself? I… I just think that that's what James and Lily would want."

The door shut softly behind her, and Sirius was once again alone. 

**

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	17. Not An Easy Road To Take

**Chapter Sixteen: Not An Easy Road To Take**

The corridors of Hogwarts seemed unusually lonely to Delia. With the Potters leaving for their father's good friend's funeral, it was quiet and calm in a way that the school had never been before, at least in Delia's recollection.

At the moment, she was wandering the halls, looking for a particular house-elf. She was out of bounds, alone, and feeling delightfully wicked. So heady was the pleasure of disobeying the rules _by _herself_ that she didn't see Professor Lupin until she was upon him. Without the invisibility cloak to protect her, there was no way for her to avoid him. She would simply have to face the consequences._

Unconsciously, however, she lightened her steps, slowed her breathing. Maybe there was still a chance to avoid detection. 

"Even without the cloak, you're doing a remarkable job, Delia Williams."

The sound of that voice, always distinctly other-worldly, always calm, shook her to her toes. 

"Good evening, Professor," she responded, and tried desperately to stop the panicked sort of breathing that was taking over.

"I wouldn't have seen you, if I hadn't been looking for you."

Delia raised her eyebrows and fought the urge to demand a more logical comment. Jessica had told her that when dealing with Professor Lupin, one had to be just as vague as he was. So, she decided on a simple nod.

There was an odd silence, and a weary sort of smile began to spread over Professor Lupin's face. If Delia had known his father, she would have recognized the expression as one of Remus's own. 

"Ah, so you're determined that I speak next then, Miss Williams," Orion observed, very amused.

"That seems to be the best course of action to take, Professor," Delia said demurely, and began to study the tips of her toes with an avid interest.

"You see, Miss Williams, I'm afraid you're very important."

That caught her attention, and she snapped her head up to capture Orion's eyes with her own. 

"How so, Professor?"

"Unless I miss my guess, you, young lady, are a Healer."

Delia nodded. "You're not the first one to tell me that. I still don't know if I agree or not."

"You think the way that you healed that house-elf went unnoticed? By the way, Mr. Augustus Gruthersford is in my rooms at the moment, enjoying a nice cup of tea. We'd love to have you join us."

Delia was suddenly suspicious. "You may be a professor, sir, but I don't know you very well, and it seems a bit odd that I be out of bounds without some sort of punishment."

Orion's eyes twinkled. "Ah. That's all well and good. You have a right to be worried, I suppose. Well then, how about I take ten points from Gryffindor, and send you off quickly to your dormitory, and you can forget I said anything. Or, you can come with me to my office, and we can have a nice discussion about… things which are better said within private walls."

Delia was still undecided, a part of her that gloried in this newfound attention waging war with the other half that was still shy, still unwilling to make contact with unknown people.

"What if I told you that Professor McGonagall would be attending? Would that change your mind?"

"Yes, sir." 

"All right then. Professor McGonagall will be attending. There will be no danger of you getting hurt."

Delia nodded. "Lead the way then, Professor."

Time passed quickly as Orion cut a sharp path through the winding corridors of the school. Little was said between the two of them, some inner sense warning Delia that now was not the time to be making small talk.

Suddenly, they were in a part of the school that Delia had never been before. The coveted Professors' Hall. There was thick purple carpeting on the floor, wallpaper of elves and satyrs dancing on the walls, and frescos on the ceiling. Golden chandeliers lit the way through the series of apartments that presumably belonged to the teachers in residence at Hogwarts. Delia was, quite honestly, floored.

"Rather a bit much, isn't it?" Orion asked, humour colouring his voice.

"It's very… luxurious," Delia finished lamely. Orion just chuckled.

"This door here," he said, stopping at a door that at first glance seemed no different than all the rest, and began searching for a key. However, with a second look, one noticed the name embellished on the doorway, Orion Albus Lupin, Divination and the strip of wood that was missing on one of the panels. "It was my mother and father's quarters while they stayed here. Mother, of course, stayed closer to the tower at first, but ultimately, they moved down here."

Delia could only find it in her power to nod, and Orion pushed open the door. 

Inside it was a great deal sparser than Delia had expected. Off to the right there was a sitting area, two large sofas and a cushy armchair furnishing that room. Immediately on the left was a kitchen with only the most minimal of cooking equipment. On the miniature stove sat a teapot that was apparently boiling water. Further beyond, Delia could only guess what lay in the rest of the rooms.

"Miss Williams! I'm so glad you've come!" Augustus Gruthersford, looking remarkably recovered and well rested, rose to his feet, a habit of the old manners ingrained upon him by his former masters, the Potters. 

"Mr. Gruthersford! Excuse me… Gus. It's wonderful to see you!"

"Ah, there's a lass," he said. "You're looking much better than when last we met."

"I'm feeling much better, thank you," Delia responded, not thinking it the least bit odd to be exchanging pleasantries with a house-elf. That was the beauty, Gus thought, of today's generation. Nothing seemed strange to them.

There was a quick tapping at the door, and as Orion turned on his heel to open it, Professor McGonagall strode in. 

"I hope you don't mind me letting myself in, Orion. There's a terrible mess outside. Peeves and the Bloody Baron are at it again, and I just didn't have the time to deal with it. Mr. Filch will be handling the ordeal, I suppose."

"So glad you could join us, Aunt Minnie," Orion said fondly. "Would you be wanting milk then, with your tea?"

"As always. Thank you, lad. Such a nice boy," she muttered to herself, seemingly unaware of the other two beings in her presence, "always remembers what I like."

"Good evening, Professor McGonagall," Delia just barely whispered.

"Good evening, Miss Williams. I trust you are feeling well rested from your trip to the hospital wing, hmm?" Professor McGonagall looked over the top of her spectacles and graced Delia with a warm smile. Immediately, Delia felt something click. No matter what any of the other students thought, Professor McGonagall had instantly become one of her favorite teachers.

"Yes, thank you, Professor McGonagall. Madam Pomfrey and Ian took very good care of me."

Professor McGonagall looked startled and then quite suddenly confused. "Ian?"

Orion nodded. "That's part of the reason you had to come this evening, Aunt Minnie. There's been a breach of Hogwarts security. Unless I miss my guess…"

"…and you so rarely do," Professor McGonagall muttered.

"…the Death Eaters have something up their sleeves, and we aren't going to like it."

"Is this just a guess, Orion, or is this something much more serious?"

"Oh, it's something much more serious. This is a premonition. First, though, let me ask Delia a few questions."

"All right," Delia agreed, a wave of shocking washing through her.

"Now, when did you first see this 'Ian'?"

"I woke in the middle of the night, and he was standing by my bed. Now that I think about it, that seems rather odd, doesn't it?"

Orion shrugged his shoulders. "In your condition, I'm sure you thought little of it. Did you see him any other time?"

"Yes sir, but only when Madam Pomfrey was away or busy. I didn't think to ask about him."

"Did anyone besides you come into contact with him, Delia?" Professor McGonagall asked quietly.

"Yes, Professor."

"Who?"

"Jessica Potter."

Professors McGonagall and Lupin exchanged glances. 

Lupin was the first to speak. "Did he do anything else you might have considered odd? Unusual?"

"Not at the time, Professor. I spent most of my stay sleeping."

Orion sighed. "Well, that can't be helped."

"Professors, who do you think this is?"

"I don't really know, Delia, but whoever it is, he can't mean well for Hogwarts. The only scenarios I can think of where a Death Eater would need to be in the _hospital wing_, of all places, in Hogwarts, can only lead to trouble," Professor McGonagall said, and rubbed her forehead.

"It's not unheard of for Muggles to fight their wars with diseases, you know," Orion said pointedly. "I begin to suspect that there may be more to Sirius's illness than we had all originally thought, and we all made a big deal of it then."

Professor McGonagall nodded. "Or, perhaps, they'd heard of Delia's abilities."

"How could they?" Orion rose to his feet, and began to stride around the room impatiently. "There was no way for them to know."

Gus cleared his throat. "Not necessarily, young master. They could have used a detection stone."

"Those are so rare these days…"

"Not as rare as you would think," McGonagall interrupted. "Oh dear, this is a mess."

"There may be good news, though," Orion interrupted. "With Delia's ability, she could heal Sirius."

That brought a stop to all movement in the room. Delia felt bile began to tease the back of her throat.

"You couldn't ask such an inexperienced Healer to try something like that," Professor McGonagall shot back. "Honestly, Orion, I'd expected better of you."

Orion had been expecting that, but it still stung. "No, listen to me. I don't think either of you two fully comprehends what Delia _is. I wouldn't have, either, if I hadn't had this vision."_

"I think I do, Orion," Augustus said haughtily, and rose to his full height. "You couldn't ask something like that of an eleven-year-old girl."

"You're wrong there, Mr. Gruthersford," Orion corrected him softly, "dreadfully wrong. I _shouldn't_ have to ask that of an eleven-year-old girl. Unfortunately, I have no choice. Sirius Black is very important. _Very important,_" he stressed, looking up to meet the other's eyes. "No matter what happens, Delia will survive. We need Delia as well. This can only benefit us."

"I have no idea how it _works_!" Delia protested, and got to her feet. "I haven't a clue how or why or what this… _thing_ is, and you expect me to just waltz in there and lay and my hands over some bloke and then miraculously heal him?"

"It sounds ridiculous, I know," Orion said patiently, and rose to his feet. Slowly, he fell to one knee in front of Delia, and their eyes met, a fantastic amount of words said inaudibly between them. Suddenly, Orion began to whisper so that no one else in the room could hear him. "Delia, I've Seen things about you. You could take one of two paths, right here, right now, in this room. It's your choice. You could either look upon your gift as just that – a gift. Or, you could view it as a curse, an abomination. The way I see it, only the former will do good things for you.

"I know that you're scared. I know that you're feeling overwhelmed right now. I've been there. I've been down this road, Delia. It's your choice, now."

Her thoughts began to swirl around in her head, until Orion's hand gently touched her cheek. Then everything just stopped, every thought, every emotion. Orion was revealing to her what he had Seen in his visions. There was no choice now.

Finally, she raised her head and looked him directly in the eye. "I'll do it."

Orion smiled, feeling as though a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders. "It's not going to be an easy path to take."

"I know," Delia whispered, but she smiled up at him, and he felt his bones warm all over in the sunshine of that smile, "but it's going to be worth it."

Orion nodded. "Yes, yes it is."

--

A Brief Author's Note:

First of all, a HUGE thanks to Joe, who unknowingly picked me up this vacation. 

Thanks to Neko and Shinou for enduring my whining sessions, and for Highly Encouraging a straight Orion. I think the plot works much better this way, as well. 

Also, thank you to all of you (Liz, Anne, Margot), who sent me cookies last chapter. It helped, I promise.

As always, the link for ALL of you fans is    


	18. Something Wicked This Way Comes

The following has a violence warning attached to it.

Chapter Seventeen: Something Wicked This Way Comes

The man walked, as he had done many times before, through the tunnels of the dungeons of the Lestrange manor. He had, of course, failed to collect the Williams girl, but that was irrelevant. The balance, once again, was shifting, and this time it was his side that would benefit. The Darkness would win, this time. 

Finally, he reached the room that housed the Dark Lord, Bellatrix Lestrange. 

"Greetings, Death Eater," she said, and rose to her feet. "Have you brought us victorious tidings?"

He smiled, for her time was running out and she was, as expected, completely oblivious. "I'm afraid not, my lord."

"You would dare encroach my house without the body of Williams?"

"It hardly seems relevant anymore."

Bellatrix rose to her feet indignantly. "_What did you just say?"_

"Hmm, yes, I remember now. Smaller words. I said, _my lord--" he stressed the title mockingly, "-- that it doesn't matter what your orders are. I've completed my mission."_

"You have not!" Bellatrix's voice grew in volume and became shrill. "Your _mission_ was to bring back the body of the young Healer, not to come back here and play games with me."

He chuckled. "I assure you, I am not playing games."

The hard, wicked light in his eyes both frightened and excited Bellatrix. "That's marvelous, for neither am I."

"Of the two of us," the man said, and began to approach her with slow, methodical steps, "I think it is you that does not realize the graveness of the situation that you have placed yourself in."

"I see no 'situation', Ares, and to be quite honest, I think you've gone just a bit mad."

"Mad? No, I'm perfectly sane. I'm still aware of my own _gender, at least."_

"Have a care. I _will_ summon my Death Eaters to me."

Ares laughed. "You are making the assumption, my lord, that your Death Eaters are still loyal to you. That is an assumption I would not make, in your place."

Bellatrix's face grew pale. "You lie!"

"No, I'm being perfectly honest, for once. Take nothing for granted, my lord."  
  


Bellatrix's face worked itself into a horrific twist of pain and fear. "I am the Dark Lord's chosen heir!"

"Nonsense. Draco Malfoy was his chosen heir, and now that poor fool has departed from us. Sad, isn't it?"

"I don't like your tone, young man."

"Then change it. Make me do something, for once. Use your magic on me, my lord. Prove yourself."

Bellatrix's lips drew together and she shook her head desperately.

"Ah, so you have, at last, realized the truth. Your Dark Magic is killing you, isn't it? Nasty little virus. It will probably be the end of the wizarding world. How terribly sad."

"You know _nothing._"

"On the contrary, madam, I know everything." Ares began to walk a wide circle around Bellatrix. "You really have let yourself go. Your hair is a mess…" He fingered what had once been deep and rich and beautiful, but now was stringy and gray. "Your face droops, your chest sags… Whatever would the true Dark Lord think of you now?"

"How dare you speak to me that way!"

"I will speak to you, my lord, in any manner that I wish. There is, after all, nothing you can do to stop me. One more spell will kill you."

Bellatrix spat. "You can't know that for sure."

"As the inventor of that 'little virus' that you've been complaining of for some time, yes, I believe I can," Ares sneered, and then leaned close to the woman who had been Voldemort's right hand, and whispered in her ear. "You see, that doesn't matter now, either, for I am about to kill you."

Bellatrix opened her mouth to scream, but Ares stopped her with an over large hand. "Now, now, none of that. Be a brave Death Eater, now."

She struggled, kicked and bit, tried to reach her wand but couldn't. Ares now had her locked in a position from which she could not escape. He looked into her terrified eyes, and began to laugh. Suddenly, he rose to his feet, dragging her with him, and with one final look, he raised her high into the air, and brought her head crashing down onto the throne that had been hers.

Blood flowed, a river of it, covering the entire chair with scarlet embroidery. 

Ares turned the head of Bellatrix Lestrange, and made it to face himself. Tenderly, he kissed her left cheek, and then her right. Just as suddenly, he dropped her body to the floor, and wiped his hands of the mess on her own dress.

"Good-bye, mother," he whispered, "I shall see you in hell." Softly, as if an afterthought, he said to himself, "And I didn't need any damned _magic_, either."

**

"Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. Thus we were made, thus we shall return. Blessed be the name of the LORD." Mr. Druesdel's voice droned on and on, flowing like waves over the funeral attendees. His monotonous tone had not changed since he had wed Remus and Anna, many years before.

Now, at the cemetery, Anna leaned heavily on Harry, who stood on her right. Behind her stood her son, with a small girl she didn't know, but whose magical aura she could _sense_ in a way that she hadn't been able to do anyone in a very long time.

"Into Your hands we commit his spirit, O Lord. May he rest in peace with You, with Your son, forever and ever."

The assembly answered, "Amen."

Before they lowered the coffin to the ground, the family made their final goodbyes. Sirius and Anna went first, kneeling at the site, joined at the hands. 

After a time, Sirius whispered, "Come on, dear, there's nothing more we can do for him now."

Anna nodded, for the first time in a while, tears began to stream from his face. "I… I…" she started, but could not finish her thought.

Gently, Orion came behind her and lifted her elbows. Raising her to her feet, he caught in her in a strong embrace, very much like his father's. "It's all right, Mum. It's all right."

The girl behind him wept also, for a man she had never known. But she could feel his pain rising from the grave in a very real way. Even she, Delia knew, could not have Healed him, but perhaps she could have helped, in some way.

Harry and Ginny and all of the children knelt next, a solid unit of strength. Delia realized then, as the rest of the congregation watched them, just what the Potter family meant to the rest of the wizarding world. 

They were hope, they were strength.

Behind her, Sirius began to cough, a terrible wracking sound that made Delia's heart hurt. On, impulse, she walked to him and laid a hand on his arm. "Be quiet," she whispered to some unknown foe. "Now is not the time for you. Let him grieve in peace."

Just as suddenly as he had started, he stopped, and he looked down at her, amazed. Before he could say anything, the Potters rose, again, as one. The Granger-Weasley family was next.

Sirius found that a protective circle was being formed around Anna and him, and that made him feel warm, and loved. Raina stepped up to his side then.

"Are you all right?"

He nodded. "I think… I think it was time for him to go. Every day that he was here was more painful than the last. This way, at least, he's free."

In a compartment of his heart, Orion agreed. He just couldn't find a way to deal with it just now. Harry, his godfather, placed a hand on his right shoulder, and then addressed the group.

"There's no need for us to stand out here," he said, his voice soft, but carrying as it always was. "Remus would have wanted us to enjoy the meal the wonderful ladies at the church have provided."

There was a murmur of agreement, and the crowd moved in that direction. Harry and Ginny were walking, their hands full of children, and Ron and Hermione joined them, having left their two with a babysitter. 

Orion and Delia paused a moment, until everyone else had left.

"He was very strong, wasn't he?" Delia asked, and then knelt on the ground.

"He had to be."

Delia raised her eyes and captured his in a way that no one else could. "Perhaps you ought to consider that his strength came, not only from within, but from the love of those around him. Even if he never felt worthy, he still accepted the friendship and caring of those who were close to him."

"Is that a hint?" Orion asked, sharply.

"I wouldn't dare be so bold," Delia drawled sarcastically. 

Orion winced. "Point taken."

Delia rose to her feet shakily. "Let's go, quickly. I can't take much more of this."

Orion grasped her arm, and then swung her up to carry her. "Better?"

"Much." Delia smiled. "This way, if I pass out, at least I won't fall."

"You have a very dry sense of humour," Orion informed her. "No regrets?"

Delia shrugged. "No, not at all. I'm happy with the choice I made."

"Being life bonded to me doesn't bother you?"

"Of course it does. I lie awake at night wondering at my bad fortune in bagging someone like you."

Orion raised his eyebrows. "Sarcasm doesn't suit you."

Delia laughed. "Point taken."

"Let's go before they get too worried about us."

Delia nodded. "I'll just let you say good-bye to your father in private, then."

Orion nodded and set Delia gently to the ground then knelt down. "Well, Dad, I guess that this really is goodbye, since you didn't send for me at the end. I can understand that. Neither one of us ever liked long, drawn out goodbyes. I just want you to know that I… I love you. I miss you, and hopefully, I'll see you in a few decades."

He stood then, and took Delia's arm. Anyone taking the time to look at them would have found it odd, that a sixteen-year-old boy and an eleven-year-old girl were walking like two people in love, but it was not strange to them. They walked, as they found it easiest to walk, in step. 

"You saw Sirius," Orion said suddenly, as they were still several blocks from the church. "Can you Heal him?"

Delia sighed. "I think I can. It's convincing him to trust me that's going to be the hard part."

Orion nodded. "I think it's the whole 'going to Azkaban without a trial' thing. He doesn't trust outsiders easily. I'm surprised he's taken up with Commander O'Reilly, but then again, maybe I'm not."

Easily, Delia saw inside his head and blushed furiously. "Don't _think_ those things at me."

A well of laughter bubbled up inside of him. "I shall strive to cut down on thinking."

"That's not what I meant and you know it," Delia snapped at him playfully. "Come on now, we have to be somber for this feast."

"Did you have to remind me?"

"Yes. It wouldn't look good for you to come to your father's funeral dinner laughing, would it?"

"I'm sure he wouldn't mind," Orion said, and released her arm reluctantly. 

"Remember, not a word," Delia said strongly. "Not a one."

"I promise, I'll keep it quiet. Neither one of us wants to explain this."

"Exactly," Delia said, and nodded her head empathetically. "Especially not to your mother. She sees right through me… It's almost scary."

Orion chuckled. "I know exactly what you mean. I had to grow up with that."

Delia almost shuddered. "I can't imagine."

Orion's brow crinkled, and he realized then just how bad Delia's life had been up to that point. "It wasn't bad at all, actually. I never had to explain what I'd done, just deal with the consequences, except for when she wanted to teach me a lesson."

Delia smiled. "Your mother deliberately taught you lessons? For shame."

They then reached the church door and stopped, altogether. 

Finally, Orion cleared his throat. "Onward, Christian soldiers," he muttered, and swung open the door.

--

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	19. Family Meeting

Chapter Eighteen: Family Meeting

Anna had, at last, accepted intellectually that Remus had died, but she couldn't stop herself from thinking, _Remus would have loved this._

And he would have. For to the funeral of one of the loneliest men that had ever walked the Earth came a crowd of people, several of whom Remus would have never thought would attend his funeral. Students of his from years long past appeared, and told whispered stories of how Professor Lupin had _made sure_ that they understood, and enjoyed his subject. 

Former pupils of Anna's came as well, to give their condolences; none of them were real Seers, but some with a Gift just strong enough to detect. The tales they told her of their lives after Hogwarts made her smile, and the ache in her heart subsided a little. 

It was only when she gathered her skirts up to stand did she remember with sudden and vivid clarity that her husband was gone, and that she was in mourning. The black was supposed to be a reminder to everyone around her of her pain, but Anna found it a harsh reminder of what she was trying to avoid.

A strong hand clasped her shoulder. "Anna, can I get you something?"

She turned and looked up into the kind green eyes of Harry Potter -- the green eyes he'd inherited from his mother, who had once been her dearest friend.

A shudder ran up and through her back like quicksilver. The pain in that moment was so that she didn't think she could survive it.

Remus's kind voice, one that had never failed to calm her in even the direst of situations, echoed to the front of her mind from some distant memory. _"Neither of us thought we would survive James and Lily's death, Anna my love. If we both got through that sane, we can handle anything."_

She felt like screaming, like stamping her foot in a childish protest against a circumstance over which she held no control. It wasn't fair that he was the one to leave her _again. Just once, she wanted to be the one to walk away._

"No, Harry." She closed her eyes against the fury and swallowed. "I… no one can get me what I want now."

Harry's mouth closed to a firm line, and he ran soothing fingers through her hair. "Just a while longer and everyone will leave, Godmother."

Anna was startled by his tone of voice. It was somehow formal and caring at the same time. "Oh, Harry," she whispered. The pain grew more acute, and she finally allowed herself to cry, small drops of liquid that tracked their way silently down her cheeks.

With the innate grace of a Quidditch player, Harry took her gently against him and rocked her back and forth. Around them, people politely ignored the scene. There was nothing, after all, they could do about a widow's sorrow.

Nearly silent footsteps approached them, and Anna looked up to see Orion, their son… a perfect blending of both of his parents' worst and best characteristics. Tears were in his eyes too, but they would not escape here, Anna knew. 

Angrily, she wiped the moisture from her eyes and tried to sound cheerful. "Hello."

"Mother," Orion said quietly, and caressed her cheek, though she was still enfolded in the arms of her godchild. 

She bent her head to accept the affection, but then took a step away from both the males and found herself staring face to face with a plain and solemn-faced child.

Well, plain, if one didn't have the Gift. She practically glowed with energy and love and… something else.

"May I ask your name?" Even though the circumstances were horrible, Anna could never bring herself to be less than kind to a child.

"Delia Williams, Professor," the girl said, and extended her hand. 

There was definitely something different about this one. There was a maturity here, an understanding of adult concepts that no child should have at the age of eleven. She couldn't be any older than eleven.

Anna didn't understand why the girl hesitated, she just knew that she did. _For goodness' sake, it's only a child!_

Steeling her resolve, she took the child's hand, and Saw.

_Flames, reaching, tearing up… Pain._

_Swirling colors, reds and oranges. _

_A laugh from far away, high, with ever changing pitch._

_Bodies. Bodies of friends, of loved ones._

_The god of war on his chariot, sweeping down and felling the mightiest of trees. _

_A light, bright and direct of beam. Building, building, building, until it blinded. _

_A Healer and a Seer, dead._

With a gasp, Anna pulled away. She hadn't had a vision of that power and length in a very long time. Comprehension dawned on her. This was no mere child. 

"We've got to talk, Orion Albus," she said sternly, staring him down, her eyes holding his to hers.

"Yes, Mother," Orion said, in a tone that not many had heard him use before. Total and absolute respect.

Harry took a step forward. "What's going on here?"

Anna took a deep breath. "I think we need to call a family meeting."

Harry simply nodded. "I'll let everyone know. The crowd's beginning to taper off, anyway. The sooner the better?"

"Yes," Anna said. "Let's go get you a glass of lemonade and a biscuit," she finally said to Delia. "I think I might need one, as well."

**

The meeting was held in the Lupin family room. A large fire crackled in the fireplace, and the walls were painted a soothing shade of sage green. 

That was, in fact, probably the only thing soothing about it at the moment.

Harry and Ginny were seated at one end of the room, their children who had been deemed too young sent off to one of the still existing playrooms. As usual, they held hands, a unit in every sense of the word. Next to them sat Ron and Hermione, comfortable with each other and still very much in love. Ron had his arm draped over Hermione's shoulders, and every now and again he would play affectionately with her hair.

Anna, Orion and Delia sat together across from the other four, Anna and Orion careful not to look at each other, Delia careful to always look at her hands.

Sirius and Raina completed the triangle, sitting together, Sirius in the seat of a large comfy armchair that had been one of Remus's favorites, with Raina seated on the arm. 

A long, uncomfortable silence had stretched out to minutes in length, and finally, Sirius could take it no longer.

"Well, we're here, aren't we?" he demanded, quite suddenly. "We'd best find out what's going on." A cough took his breath from him, just as suddenly as he had spoken, and Raina laid a comforting hand over his. "Otherwise," he finished, "there's no way we can make a decision about what to do, eh?"

Delia started to get up, but Orion stopped her and shook his head. "Not yet," he mouthed to her.

"Well?" Sirius asked.

"It is difficult to get my thoughts in order, brother," Anna said softly, and absentmindedly lifted the fringe off her face. "There're so many things… and so little that I understand."

"Why don't you start with what you do know," Raina said, her military training lending authority to her voice, "and then move on to the things of which you are not certain?"

"Perhaps Orion ought to go first. He knows more than I about our current situation," Anna said, a little bitterly.

"Mother," Orion rebuked her gently, "at the time this started, your primary concern was Father. I could hardly come to you with some vague Vision that hadn't even really started to take any type of shape yet."

"Nevertheless," Anna said, and shook her head, "you should have told _someone._"

"It's a little late now for 'should haves', Godmother," Harry commented, and as usual, every eye in the room was drawn to him. "We'll have to press forward with what we've got."

"Yes, of course," Anna muttered, obviously still not satisfied.

"Carry on, Orion. Leave nothing out," Harry commanded, and leaned back a little further, crossing his ankle over his opposite knee. "I have a feeling this is going to be very important."

"It began earlier this year, when Father announced that he was going to retire. That night, I had a terrifying dream, one that I didn't think could possibly be a Vision. It was too imprecise, too vague."

Ginny raised an eyebrow. "That is usually the form of Visions, Orion."

Orion shook his head in gentle disagreement. "There was nothing to gather from this – only a feeling of impending doom, a kind of dread that I had never experienced before. However, the next night, the dream did not return. I dismissed it as nothing. That was my first mistake.

"Several weeks later, I had another dream. Delia was in the hospital wing, and I Saw then, when I stepped through the door to see one of my other pupils, a green snake slithering around her bed, hissing and cackling to itself. I went on guard, looking for other Signs that something was amiss at Hogwarts.

"To my dismay, I found them. There was something not quite _right about the way students returning from the hospital wing felt about the experience. Normally students complain about the medicine they had to take, or brag about the size of their individual wounds. More and more, they ceased to do so, returning quiet and focused inwards._

"That led me to believe that there something wrong at the hospital wing, but I had nothing I could set in stone. 

"A couple of nights after I Saw the snake, I had another dream. In this dream, there was a larger snake than the one I had seen before, with a very female aura. The two had a conversation, and I gathered that the female was the male's mother. After a short time, the male devoured his mother, and grew larger.

"Then, suddenly, my Vision shifted. I saw a house-elf, and one of the students I had seen in the hospital wing, a young girl I had come to know as Delia Williams. The house-elf was quite still, and the girl was obviously very distressed. She picked up the elf, and in her desperation, whispered something.

"A white light blinded my sight for a minute, and then I saw the house-elf's chest rise and fall. I could only reach one conclusion. Delia Williams was a Healer.

"Before I could force myself to wake up, my Vision shifted one last time. I saw before me the site of a great battle. The snake had grown, fat and grotesque in its appearance. A group of warriors faced it, with wands and swords alike. 

"Then I heard one man say, 'Be gone, snake! You have done enough damage in the world of Muggles and of wizards!' 

"But the snake heeded not his words, and instead began to laugh, and said to the man, 'When one doesn't belong in _either of the worlds, one cares little about the mere __damage one causes.'_

"And I felt, then, the ripping of the magical binding that holds the world together. It was sliced in two like a piece of paper in the hands of an errant student. 

"Then, rising from the smoke and debris, a figure of a girl rose up. With her hands, she patched together the strands.

"A great light took my sight, once again, and I could see naught of the world of Vision or the world of the Real for a long time."

Orion took a deep breath. "The man confronting the snake was Sirius."

There was a pause in the room, where the air felt heavy, as though it could be weighed on scales. 

"The snake was Ares Lestrange."

Harry cursed, rose, and ran his hands through his already unruly hair. 

Ginny was the first to speak, her hand laid protectively over her stomach. "He's a Squib. Why couldn't the people in the Vision just _kill him?"_

"I don't know," Orion admitted warily. 

"He may be a Squib," Ron spoke up, "but he's a bloody dangerous one. Last I'd heard, we'd had him under control."

Raina shook her head. "A few months is a long time to be gone, Weasley.  We lost track of him soon after you left."

"Well, this certainly complicates things," Sirius muttered in between quiet coughs.  

"No doubt," Anna agreed, and crossed the room to look at a picture on the mantelpiece of Remus and her on a holiday they'd taken before Orion's birth.

"He has the potential to become more dangerous than Lord Voldemort," Harry said, in a very reasonable tone. 

Orion fixed his eyes on the man he'd counted as an uncle all of his short life. "Why do you say that?"

Harry sat back down next to Ginny and held out one of his long, callused hands. "One" -- he began to use his fingers to count -- "he seems to have no intentions of letting the wizarding population know that he _exists at this point. For Voldemort, the glory was half of the reason to do what he'd been doing. Two, like Voldemort, he's been discriminated against all of his life. That can leave you with a bad taste in your mouth, to say the least. Ares is different in that he doesn't just want to get revenge and rule, he wants to destroy. Completely and utterly. Ron and I saw those tendencies the night we went after him."_

"He's quite mad," Ron agreed, "and quite intelligent. The combination of the two makes him very perilous to deal with." 

Ginny moved her gaze to Delia. "Which brings us to why you're here this evening, young lady," she said, not unkindly. 

Unknowingly, under Ginny's gaze, Delia flinched a little. There was so much knowledge in those brown eyes, knowledge of things that Delia thought only she knew. 

"I'm a Healer," she said simply.

"It's not quite the same thing as the ones employed at St. Mungo's, I would imagine," Hermione said, annoyed to find something that she didn't know hardly anything about.

"No, it's nothing like that," Delia agreed. 

"It's more complicated than that," Orion started, but Delia cut him off with a glance.

"I can't think," she whispered to him in a slight panic. "I've got to… do something!"

"Ask," Orion reiterated. "He's very awake, very aware. It would be impolite to Heal him without permission.

With a final desperate whimper, she ran across the room and laid her hands on Sirius's arm. "Please, sir, you're driving me to distraction. Can I Heal you? What I did earlier was just a temporary relief."

Sirius opened his eyes and looked down at the little girl, short and pretty in the way all little girls are. She was so willing to help him. 

"All right," he agreed.

--

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	20. The Beginning Of The End

_For those who have been with me since the beginning. I couldn't have gone this far without you._

Chapter Nineteen: The Beginning Of The End

Jessica, James and Mick were piled up, very carefully, in front of the door to the library, where the so-called "family meeting" was taking place.

"Not much of a family meeting if we're not invited," Mick muttered.

"Shush!" Jessica ordered. "They'll hear us."

"Don't step on my toes," James hissed. "Ouch! What did you do that for?"

"Couldn't resist," Jessica whispered back, and held back her laughter admirably. 

"Hurts," James said.

"Be quiet!" Mick said suddenly. "I can't hear a thing."

"Neither can I," Jessica said with a pout. "You'd think they'd make this easier on us."

"Of course they wouldn't," James berated her. "Uncle Ron's a _genius_ with security, you know."

"That he is," said their Uncle Fred from behind them, "and you three are making it entirely too easy for him to block your pathetic attempts at eavesdropping."

James nearly let out a whoop of joy at seeing his two favorite uncles. "Will you help us?"

George shook his head solemnly. "Now that we're adults, we have an open pass to these sorts of things."

"We were just downstairs seeing the last of the 'guests' off," Fred said with a smirk.

"I thought everyone left!" Jessica protested.

"Not all of the reporters did," George said gently. "Remus's death is big news. The Potters turning up at the funeral is even bigger."

"I wish they would go _away,_" Jessica muttered. "I hate them. I hate all reporters."

"You don't mean that," said a jolly voice from behind the rather tall twins. "Some reporters have been known to be quite charming, you know."

"Jessica, James and Michael Potter, this is KC Allen," Fred said proudly. "He did that article on Remus, remember?"

"I liked that," Jessica admitted cautiously. "It made Uncle Remus seem sort of heroic."

"That's because he was," KC said simply, and reached out a hand. "You're a pretty lass, Miss Potter."

To her mortification, Jessica blushed red to the tips of her hair. "Thank you, Mr. Allen."

"What is he doing here?" James demanded, still unsure of this newcomer. "What does he want?"

"He wants," KC said with a grin, "to help you out. That's all."

"How would you help us?" Michael asked, placing his hands on his hips and spreading his feet apart in a natural stance he had seen his father use when he was displeased with any action of his children's. 

"Not very trusting, are you?" KC asked. "Rather like your father in that aspect, I suppose."

"They do have a rather natural. distrust of reporters," said Harry, who now stood in the door. "Damned good to see you again, KC. Damned good."

"Who could blame 'em?" KC muttered. "I myself can't stand reporters. They always ask questions, you know."

Harry let out a roar. "Well then, you'd best come on in. I think you've got your work cut out for you." As KC headed inside, Harry turned towards his children with a twinkle in his eye. "How'd the Extendable Ears work?"

"Rather shoddy piece of magical equipment if you ask me," James teased. "They didn't do the job they were supposed to at all."

As Fred and George fumbled for words to defend their marvelous invention, Ron came over to stand in the doorway, leaning heavily on his cane. "That's because you're up against me, children. Fred and George have yet to invent a spy toy that I can't manage to foil somehow."

"It's only a matter of time," George muttered. "Only a matter of time."

Hermione came to the door then, and placed a hand on Ron's shoulder. "George Weasley, you know for a fact that Ron is the most brilliant strategist and anti-stealth officer the Department ever had."

Ron blushed a solid crimson. "Thank you, love."

"My pleasure," she said, and then stood up on tiptoe to whisper in his ear. "How's the leg?"

Ron shrugged. "Hurts," he said simply. "I think it's best we go sit down."

George shook his head. "I don't know why she stays with him when she could have one of us," he marveled.

"It's frustrating," Fred agreed, "when you know you're the better looking brother."

"It just goes to show you," Michael said, "that looks aren't everything."

Fred and George laughed out loud. "You just might make it as the heirs to the Weasley family name," George teased.

"Go on in, Fred and George," Harry said firmly. "I need to speak with my children. KC, I'd prefer you not start until I come back into the room."

"Yes sir!" KC responded, and gave a mock salute. "Don't know why he ever gave up the Department," he muttered to himself as he walked in the door, "damned good at giving orders, he is."

As the last of the adults entered the room and the door was once again firmly shut to the three Potter children, Harry sank to the floor and gestured for his children to do the same.

"All right, then. What's this all about?"

"Well, we're members of this family, too, and we've got a right to know what's going on!" James announced, and crossed his arms across his chest.

"I want to know what's happened to Delia," Jessica said, a bit quieter and more unsure than her brother. "I just want to know that she's all right."

Inside of his chest, Harry's heart broke into little pieces. It seemed that this little girl who had been granted to him by some higher power would always be destined to make him see things that were not visible to him at first glance.

"Delia's just fine," he assured her. "In fact, I'm sure she's doing wonderful. Of course, you'll know that she's a Healer."

Michael squirmed a little guilty. "She didn't want us to tell anyone."

Harry smiled. "I don't blame her, or you for that, but the fact is that she can and will help a lot of people."

"But what if she doesn't want to?" Jessica demanded. "What if all she wants to do is go to school and be with her friends and be _normal_?"

Harry sighed then, and stretched his long legs out. "It's hard to explain, Jessica. You see." his voice trailed off then, and he wished desperately for Ginny.

As though she had heard him, the door opened slowly and out stepped his wife. The years had done little to change her, at least in his eyes, and her eyes still showed the same love and kindness they had when they were schoolchildren attending Hogwarts. 

"Delia?" she asked then, and raised her eyebrows at him. He nodded.

Carefully, she sank to the floor to sit next to her husband, who immediately helped her down and supported her back. 

"Mum? Why can't Delia just be normal?" Jessica raised her eyes to meet with her mother's. 

Unquestioning, Ginny spread her arms out wide, and Jessica launched herself into them. "Delia can't be normal, love. Just like." she paused, and thought a moment. "Just like we can never be normal. Being a Healer is like being a Seer. If she tried to be anything other than what she was, she would never be happy."

"Will she still go to school with us?"

"I don't think there's any doubt that Delia will finish out school at Hogwarts with everyone," Harry said firmly. "It's in her best interest, after all."

"No matter what happens, Delia will always have you," Ginny said, "and that's an important thing to remember. It's something I don't think that she will ever forget. She hasn't changed, after all, she's just realized that there's something more to her than she had originally thought."

"We'd best go inside," Harry said, rising in a fluid motion, and then helping his wife up. "We don't want to miss any of the action. Delia's going to Heal Sirius."

Jessica, James and Mick's faces all fell, and Harry grinned suddenly. "That means you all, too. Well, hurry up."

The room was arranged in a way quite unlike any of the children had ever seen. All the furniture had been placed in a sort of semicircle, with each of the adults seated around it. It looked very much like a Council of War that might have taken place in the adventure thrillers the boys loved to read, rather than a real life meeting.

KC was seated on the hearth, taking notes furiously while Anna explained to him what was going on. 

With a whoop, James rushed inside and dove onto the couch onto his godmother's lap. "Good afternoon, Aunt Hermione!"

Hermione let out a startled whoosh of air, and then laughed. "Hello to you too, James."

Mick smiled and walked calmly to Anna, who held out an arm for him.

Raina fussed anxiously over Sirius. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

Sirius chuckled, and took her face in his hands. "I'm going to be just fine, Raina. After all, it can't hurt. It can only help."

Raina nodded. "Well, it's your decision."

"No." Sirius said firmly. "If you don't want me to do this, then I won't."

Raina shrugged helplessly. "Sirius, I."

He caught her hands, studied the lines on them, and then looked into her eyes. "Tell me what to do, Raina."

"Sirius, don't do this to me."

"Don't do what?"

"You're making me feel perfectly horrid."

Sirius's face fell. "I didn't mean to."

Raina sighed. "I know, I know. Since you seem to have your heart set on this, we'll let the girl try. I have my doubts, however." 

Sirius grinned. "I think that all present know that, my love."

Her heart stopped a minute and her eyes filled with tears. "Oh, for Merlin's sake," she muttered, and leaned down to press her lips to his.

"Yuck," James muttered and looked down at his hands.

"I wouldn't say that," Ron said, "one day that's going to be a very. entertaining enterprise that you will enjoy as much as Sirius is right now."

"I'm never going to kiss a girl." James said defiantly, and jutted his chin out in a way that reminded Ron very much of Harry.

Suddenly, he pressed James's head down a little so he could lean over him, and kissed his wife fully. When they both came up for air, Hermione's eyes glittered and she was struggling for breath.

"You see," Ron said and patted James's shoulder, "it really is quite entertaining."

"It's disgusting," James muttered.

Delia stood at the opposite end from everybody, holding on tightly to Orion's hand. "I'm scared, Orion."

He was startled, and looked down at her. "Why would you be scared?"

"What if I do something wrong, and he ends up even worse off than he already is?"

Orion smiled. "I don't think you'll do that, Delia. You've got this under control."

Delia breathed in deeply. "I wish I was confident as you are in my own abilities."

"That'll come with time, when you know your own limits and boundaries better."  
  


"If I don't know my own limits, how do I know that I can help Sirius?"

"Because you have to," Orion said, and looked her straight on in the eye. "Neither of us has the luxury of staying in our comfort zone in this situation, Delia."

"I just don't know."

"Just don't know what? You're going to be fine. I'm here to catch you if you fall."

"You mean if I fail," Delia corrected him softly.

"No. I meant what I said. Don't put words in my mouth." 

Amazement in her eyes, she looked up to gaze into his. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. Don't apologize for anything. We'll get to do all of our apologizing later, after this is all over."

"That'll be nice," Delia muttered.

"Yes, yes it will. Now, go on then and get it over with. Sirius will appreciate it more if there's not a whole lot of pomp and circumstance."

"All right then."

Purposefully, she crossed the room and halted in front of Sirius's chair. 

"I'm ready," Sirius said, in answer to her silent question, and smiled. 

Delia drew in a shaky breath and placed her hands on Sirius's face. She could feel his pain, feel every cell in his body fighting against this disease which sought to destroy it. 

The virus was hungry. It couldn't feed properly, because there had been no Dark Magic performed to mutate the cells. 

Delia knew then what she must do. She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth. 

The room filled with a bright yellow light, blinding everyone for a minute as Delia challenged Light Magic energy from every wizard and witch in the room into Sirius's body.

The virus strands cried out in excruciating pain. She could hear them. Every cell in Sirius's body rejoiced, as though they were seeing the sun for the first time in years. She could feel them.

The battle wasn't over yet. Then she gave a cry, and the light retreated to darkness. 

Raina was the first to recover. Delia's head lay on Sirius's lap, her hair wet with sweat and exertion, while Sirius looked as though he were in a blissful sleep. Panicked, she checked his pulse. It was just that, a sleep.

Then, feeling somewhat guilty, she checked Delia's. The girl was alive, just very tired.

"Thank Merlin," she muttered.

"I'll say," KC said, and rose. "Well, I know what needs to be done. I'll just leave then, and."

But KC never got to finish his sentence, for just then there was a very loud bang.   it out!


	21. Blessed Nothingness

_For KC, because the poor dear man is on pins and needles wondering if he's died or not. I hope this chapter relieves his fears._

Chapter Twenty: Blessed Nothingness 

KC Allen, on principle, didn't particularly care for heroes. He found them boring, arrogant, stuffy and not worth his time. That is, he'd thought so before he met Harry Potter. Naturally, being born into a wizarding family after the end of the first war with Voldemort, he had been raised to appreciate all that Harry had done in both wars. 

For most of his career with the _Daily Prophet_, he'd listened to reporters either sing Potter's praises as a polite young man, or dismiss him as a snobby aristocratic half-blood, who probably wanted to gain as much wealth and fame from his "strokes of luck" as he possibly could. 

The first time he had met Harry Potter, his boss had told him what to expect.

"On a good day -- a good day, mind, you might get him to tell you how he feels. He won't answer questions about the war, and he doesn't take kindly to invasive questions about his family. To stay on his good side, be just as polite as he is. Ask all the right questions, and sooner or later he'll come to trust you. At least, I hope so. It'd be a luxury to have a reporter on staff that Potter trusts."

So KC had gritted his teeth, steeled his mental armor, and prepared to go to battle with the world's most famous wizard of the modern age. He was supposed to get Potter's feelings on some minor bill that had passed, and what he got was a friendship that had lasted for a very long time.

**

The Potters' home in Ottery St. Catchpole was remarkably undistinguished. There had been no flashing signs, no outer symbol that a rich family dwelt there. In fact, it was remarkably normal. A grove of trees in the back garden provided adequate space for family Quidditch matches (and if the Potters kept going at the rate they were, they could probably supply enough players for a whole team), a spacious front garden allowed for Ginny Potter to indulge her love of herbs and plants, and nothing, absolutely nothing, gave away the presence of the Boy Who Lived.

"Number 16, Snowy Owl Way," KC muttered to himself. "This must be the place."

"Excuse me? Can I help you?"

A pretty young girl with blond hair stepped out from the corner of the house and flashed him a brilliant smile. KC felt his heart melt. He was a sucker for blonds of any age.

"Is this the Potter residence?"

"Yes, Sir. I'm Jessica Potter. Pleased to meet you!"

"The pleasure is all mine. Are your parents home?"

"Yes, they are! Do you have an appointment with my dad?" 

"I believe I do. I Flooed his office yesterday, and they told me to come here."

"Okay! I'll go get him then!"

"That would be lovely." 

The little girl ran off on swift legs into the house, and KC found himself alone again, on the porch. Absentmindedly, he began to take notes.

_Jessica Potter is a remarkably polite young woman, ten, I believe, from my research, and due to enter Hogwarts next fall. There is something mysterious or fishy about her birth, as I recall.  I'll have to look that up when I get back to the Prophet. _

_Lovely home. Mrs. Potter takes remarkably good care of the flowers and vegetables. Even my own dear mother would be impressed by the foliage, and that's saying something. _

_The house says something about its owners. It's a sturdy brown with black shutters… arranged in a sort of absentminded mess that somehow remains attractive to the eye. I shall have to ask Potter who designed it._

_There are two toy broomsticks here next to my feet… dangerously close to the doorway, I might add. Ah, and there's the bucket of… well, that's creative… shampoo, I believe… and the string to set it all off. _

_A remarkable piece of work. I commend the effort. I do hope Potter recognizes the trap._

The sound of running feet interrupted his musings, and he looked up and saw Jessica leading a rather scruffy-looking wizard with black hair, green eyes… and a scar.

With a start, KC realized that _this_ was _the_ Harry Potter. Somehow, he'd expected something more… extraordinary. He'd seen the wizard in pictures, of course, but now he recognized that the flowery writing of the journalists had lent grandeur to a simply ordinary man.

"Watch your step," Harry said with a grin, "the boys have got something planned for their uncles who are stopping by later this evening. There are probably perilous passages throughout all the house."  

The boys… That would be James and Michael, if he remembered correctly, which he often did. 

"They did a good job," KC commented and flashed a smile, "though it is a bit obvious. Subtlety will come with age."

Harry burst into laughter. "Dear Merlin, I hope not. Heaven help Hogwarts if it does."

Suddenly, he turned towards the inside of the house, and wiped his nose with a handkerchief… An ordinary movement that gave KC the boldness to ask his next question.

"Holy terrors are they?" KC asked.

Harry turned to look sharply at him, but there was simple a look of honest curiosity on the reporter's face, and no sign of recording device or quill on him. Either _The Daily Prophet_ had finally hired someone decent, or this one was simply more sneaky than others he had encountered.

"That would be a slight understatement, to tell you the truth, but it adds spice to life. Come on up to my office. You can ask your questions there."

KC took his first step inside the Potter household then, and managed to avoid the string that set off the trap.

"I take back my earlier assessment, Mr. Potter. For a prank done without magic, this is simply brilliant." 

All around the house were carefully laid wires and strings and pulleys and an odd assortments of other mechanical devices that KC had never even seen before.

"Their uncles gave them a Lego set for their birthday last year," Harry said with a tolerant sigh. "You have to admire their ingenuity."

"Whose? The boys, or their uncles?"

Harry chuckled. "Both. Both sets of twins can imitate the others so it seems to outsiders as though the boys are following in their uncles' footsteps, but I think that they'll follow a slightly different route."

"Into?" KC raised his eyebrows. To his knowledge, Potter was speaking openly about his children for the first time.

Harry shrugged. "Ah, t's difficult to say. Perhaps they will teach, though I think that highly unlikely… They won't be inventors, they'll be adaptors. They can tweak and play with their uncles' inventions until they run in ways even Fred and George had not anticipated. It keeps Ginny and I awake and aware, to say the least."

KC laughed. "I'll just bet it does."

"When we go up the stairs, I would be doubly careful. Jessica likes to leave little things lying about, so…"

"I'll watch my step."

Potter's office, or study, or whatever he called it, was clearly his room in the house. It was painted a deep masculine green, and solid oak furniture was placed strategically around the room. There was nothing fancy to it. There were no garnishes or 'touches' that a woman might add to a room.

Pictures lined the walls… Potter's children, his friends from his days with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, his extended family, his friends from Hogwarts. 

A framed portrait of Dumbledore held a place of honor in the center of one wall while a larger portrait of Potter's parents took the other wall opposite it. 

Without any ceremony at all, Harry took a seat in the most comfortable chair in the room; that was undeniably his. Only sick children ever got the privilege of sitting with him in it, something that amused him greatly.

"So, Mr. Allen, let's hear what you have to say."

What followed was an interview that refocused KC's approach to dealing with Potter. Whenever he dared to make a bold statement, Potter would smile, and wave a hand and shoot it down carelessly, but gently.

He learned a lot about politics, a lot about people, and a lot about himself, in just about two hours.

  
The session reminded him very much of time spent in Headmistress McGonagall's office. She would sometimes rearrange his mind, shake it up a bit, smack at the cobwebs and force him to _think_, rather than just accepting what everyone else believed.

"Thank you, Mr. Potter," he said at last, and rose from his seat, stretching his cramped hand considerably.

"I enjoyed it, Mr. Allen." As KC turned to go, Harry stopped him with, "I noticed you take all your notes by hand."

"Yes, I do. I find it helps me think."

"I've always liked that type of journalist better," Harry said absentmindedly. "Do have your boss send you again."

"Thank you, Mr. Potter," KC said, and again turned to leave.

"One last thing, Mr. Allen. It's 'Harry'." 

"Call me KC."

"It's a deal then."

**

When Remus Lupin died, KC had found himself assigned to the article. When the Potters made a public statement, he was always the first to know.

And when Harry needed a favor, KC was the first one he turned to. He had been called to the family meeting that evening so that he could do some more extensive research on Ares Lestrange than anyone else had before.

_The Daily Prophet_ had, though it didn't allow admittance to the public, one of the largest libraries of newspapers, texts, books, and most importantly notes from its own journalists in the wizarding world. As a staff member, and a highly favored one at that, KC had almost unlimited access.

"There's a real threat here, KC. I haven't been this worried since the rise of Voldemort," Harry had confided in him. "We need to work out exactly what made him lose his sanity and what his tendencies were before he went insane. Ron and I had to track him down once or twice for the Department, but we might have more luck on the Unspeakable side of things. I'll be pulling some strings there, as well.

" I distrust this new administration under Percy I distrust almost as much as distrusted Fudge. Percy's too concerned with making sure everything looks nice and clean for the public. He should just deal with this problem."

"It's an election year, mate," KC said, and waved a quill. "Everything's got to be clean."

Harry cursed creatively under his breath, and KC smiled. "Politics are lovely things, aren't they, Harry?"

"Oh, just lovely," he agreed. "People are going to start dying and soon. Ares has got it all set up. There's an itch in the back of my skull that tells me it's going to be soon."

KC nodded. "I've got the same feeling, as well. Sirius being sick doesn't help it, either."

"Well, with any sort of luck he won't be sick after tonight," Harry said, and then added under his breath, "though it's a long shot."

"Since when has Harry Potter been afraid of a long shot?" KC teased.

Harry, however, took him seriously. "Ever since I had a little more to lose than just myself."

KC nodded. "I think she's going to start."

Then the room filled with light, and no one could see. The next thing that anyone noticed was Delia and Sirius both passed out, and then the explosion happened.

A red flood filled KC's eyes, but he did not lose consciousness for very long. When he awoke, the sight before him was not pretty. The Death Eaters had successfully breached the Lupin family home, and KC could just tell that something bad was about to happen.

**

"Ares," Harry said, and rose painfully from where the explosion had tossed him. Unconsciously, he stood in front of his wife, pregnant with their child, protecting her. 

"How nice to meet you, Harry Potter."

"You don't recall meeting me before?" Harry asked, and cocked his head to the side. "I'm not sure whether I should be flattered or insulted."

"Take it any which way you like," Ares snapped back. "I'm not here to play a game with you, Potter."

"That sounds familiar, somehow," Harry muttered to himself. "Been taking cues from your betters, Lestrange?"

"Betters?" Ares sneered. "Oh, I think not. After all, I'm still alive, aren't I? He is most certainly not."

"You call this state you're in 'living'? Personally, I'd call it 'hell'." 

"To each their own, Potter. I've wasted enough time sparring with you. Hand over the Healer to me."

"I think not, Ares. She most certainly doesn't want to serve the Dark side, and at any rate, she's in no condition to be moved right now."

"How dare you mock me!" Ares rose up indignantly to his full height. "How dare you insult my intelligence!"

Harry just smiled. "You're playing a chess game with one much better than yourself, Ares. You've just handed over your queen. The game will be extremely difficult after this."

"What do you mean?" Ares's voice grew higher, desperate, and panicked. 

"He means," Ron said, and limped to stand with Harry, "that you've just forfeited yourself."

Ares's eyes grew clouded. "I have forfeited nothing! Did you think I would walk in here without a means of getting out?"

Ron's eyes snapped, but his mouth twitched in false amusement. "Don't you think it was a bit too easy to get in here, Ares? Now you're insulting my intelligence, which is even more dangerous than insulting Harry's."

"Let's play a little game, Lestrange," said Sirius, rising up from where he had passed out. "It's called 'Explain Yourself Or Die', and I'm telling you ahead of time that I am very, very good at it."

**

The Web URL is groups.yahoo.com/group/testedinfirefans/


	22. The Confessions of Ares Lestrange

**A/N: **Let me thank you all for being so patient and kind with me. This chapter was a doozy. It's almost like performing a monologue that you haven't practiced very often, but you know how the story line goes. Thanks for bearing with me.

**Chapter Twenty-One: The Confessions of Ares Lestrange**

"Let's play a little game, Lestrange," said Sirius, rising up from where he had passed out. "It's called 'Explain Yourself Or Die', and I'm telling you ahead of time that I am very, very good at it."

Raina rushed forward… her phase of shock had passed very quickly. "Sirius! Do you think you should…?"

He turned to face her quickly, and she saw a light and a life in his eyes that she had never seen before. It hit her then that this was Sirius as he was meant to be. This energy, this… semi-madness, was normal for him. 

His eyes softened just a bit and he said, "I'll be fine. Once I deal with him."

"Sirius…" her voice trained off warningly.

"I won't kill him in front of you, I promise."

"Sirius!" Her voice had reached a level that even she hadn't known it could achieve.

Strangely enough, it was Hermione who rose to Sirius's defense. "Raina, just let him do what he has to," she said quietly, and it made the older woman pause.

Ares sneered. "You don't frighten me, old man."

"Really?" Sirius sat down again. "Why is that?"

"You can't defeat me. No one can defeat me."

"You're pretty damn sure of yourself for a Squib," Ron mocked, as he leaned against the wall. "I'd like to know what you can do against all of us."

"You've set yourself up for failure, Lestrange," Harry said quite calmly, as if he were discussing weather conditions for a Quidditch match. "It seems obvious to me that you're a bit overmatched."

Orion stood in front of Delia, who was still passed out on the floor. "You picked a bad time to attack, Lestrange."

"On the contrary!" Ares grinned, but it was a grin recognizable to many of the group as one that was not quite sane. "It's the perfect time. Look what I have here. All the Potters, all the Weasleys, the remainder of the Lupins, and even Sirius Black and his new love interest. I can't think of a better moment to unleash my plan."

"It seems to me," said Arthur slowly, "that those would all be factors against you. Harry and Ginny, of course, defeated Voldemort, and Mr. Black can be quite…  formidable, when he wants to be."

Sirius now sat in a chair, with his elbows resting on the armrests, carefully tapping his fingers together in a constant rhythm. "Bloody terrible job of planning, mate," he said, and it was his turn to sneer. "It's not likely you'll walk out of this room alive."

"I think we've wasted enough time talking in circles," Ron said irritably. "You'd best tell us why you're here. I, for one, would like to know, before we're forced to kill you."

"I will not be the one to die today, Weasley."

"The Captain asked you a question, Lestrange," Raina said, donning the 'bad cop' persona with the ease of someone who had worn it several times.

"You _will not_ order me around!"

"Well then, how about you tell us how you managed to sneak through the finest security in the world?" Fred said, and leaned forward, unconsciously fingering his wand.

"Yes, do tell us everything," Hermione demanded, with a flash of perfectly straight white teeth. It was her barrister-on-a-roll expression, and even Ron knew it was best to just get out of the way when she got into one of those moods. "I'm interested to hear of your… genius."

The mocking tone of her last word made Ares stand up straighter. "You wizards think you can always solve all your problems with… with _magic_. It's disgusting, really. You miss so many obvious solutions to problems."

"Really?" Harry asked, even more ill at ease since Ares was reminding him of less happy times, when had to deal with the same sort of attitudes and could not defend himself. "Why don't you expand on that particular point, Ares?"

"Who did you have to turn to when your wife turned out infertile, useless?" Ares asked, glaring at Ron. "Muggles! Who did you look to in inspiration for some of your finest products?" 

Fred and George glanced at each other.

"Muggles! That's right! Muggles!"

"Fine then, Lestrange. You've made your point, though Hermione is mostly certainly _not_ useless. What's that got to do with anything?" Ron said, a bit peeved and irritable at the mention of the condition that had almost cost him his wife. 

"I was the one who hit that imbecile, Gruthersford over the head at Hogwarts. It was _so_ easy to get in. So easy. You see, because I'm a Squib, I can easily locate it. Under the guise of a delivery man from Hogsmeade, it was simple to gain entrance. And then, and then, I could do anything.

"I had your daughter, Potter. I had her in my sights, and I could have touched her. I could have touched her, and pulled her away, and you would have never seen her again. Your … _daughter._

"Though she isn't your daughter, is she? Oh no. She's Draco Malfoy's child, through and through. She has his cunning, his wit. No matter what you do, you can never stamp out the remnants of a bad birth. She's filthy with his blood, which runs in her veins."

"You will be quiet, or I swear, I will tear your insides apart with my bare hands," Harry said, in a low, very controlled voice. 

"She's filthy! Filthy, I say! And not just on her father's side, oh no. Her mother was no better than a prostitute. A prostitute who won the favor of Draco Malfoy, as so many before her had done. He lavished her with gifts, brought her to the complex. Quickly, she grew to learn too much.

"I was younger then. Younger and much less intelligent than I am now, but even then I could see how she controlled him. Ruled his every thought, his every reaction.Then she was pregnant, and he gloated. Bragged and bleated and trumpeted continuously. There was no stopping it. 

"You see, he could support _two_ women. Pansy remained his wife, and soon she was pregnant too. He could see his two sons in his mind's eye. They  were to take over after he had passed, and he would teach them everything he knew.

"Funny how much easier it is to read someone when _magic_ is out of the picture.

"That's not to say that Cassandra wasn't gorgeous. Oh, no. She was perfect. Every feature was balanced on her face, and when she walked… oh, when she walked.

"Like I said. A prostitute. She could manipulate even the strongest of us. I know, because she succeeded with me.

"She wanted out. Desperately. She pleaded with me. Anything I could do to get her out, she would be grateful to me. She appealed to my anti-magic feelings, claimed she shared them as well, since she was technically a Muggle.

"She was older than I by quite a great deal, and so I couldn't see then how she twisted me around her finger, but I was there… ready and willing to do whatever she wished.

"I really am a genius, you know. I have degrees in biotechnology, biochemistry, virology…  You name it, I've studied it. I think it's fascinating how one little strand of DNA can bring a man down when no other source could extinguish him. Even the mighty Sirius Black fell to my design. 

"It was in the less perfect stages back then, you see. Death wasn't quite as long, or as painful. The virus was too… eager. Too hasty, especially for my tastes. 

"The Death Eaters funded my research, quite generously, you see. I had told them I had specific targets in mind. The Potters. The people that had destroyed their precious Dark Lord and destroyed my mother's mind in the process."

He smiled then, and even Raina could not help but shudder in response. "Little did they know, I had little patience or interest in the dealings of my mother's mind. She believed --  believes, even to this day, that she was having a passionate affair with Voldemort, and that I'm the child of that union.

"In reality, I'm the son of a Muggle plumber whom my mother had a one night stand with. It's amazing that she has such distaste for Muggles, and yet she ended up procreating with one, when she never could with my stepfather.  I'm only allowed the virtue of his name through happy circumstance. Otherwise, I would have been thrown out of the house without a single regret by my mother.

"The heir of the Lestrange name and fortune has not a drop of magical blood in him." Ares chuckled. "I think it's a rather appropriate punishment on the part of the Fates, don't you?"

A foul taste had filled Ron's mouth, and he could not speak. Sitting next to him, Hermione finally did. "Yes, I'm sure. Cassandra, Ares?"

"Ah, yes. I had got off track, hadn't I? That happens sometimes." Nervously, he wiped his forehead with the back of one hand, and he began to breathe faster. "I can't think. I can't think. Cassandra…"

"What's going on?" Orion asked aloud, to no one in particular.

"He's suffering from exposure," Delia said calmly. She was still leaning against the chair, but now her eyes were open, and her breathing was less shallow and more even. "He's been playing with his precious DNA for too long without protection. It will only take a short while for him to leap back on his train of thought. Ah, see, there he goes."

"Cassandra wanted the virus. I didn't know it, but I should have seen it. It was right in front of my face. Of course, I hadn't realized the truth then, that women are, by nature, greedy liars. I came to understand that later.

"We planned her escape. I was to help her, afterwards returning to the complex with enough time to clear me of all charges.

"But the fool woman could not be satisfied with just escape, and the child of a very powerful wizard, oh no. She had to have the virus. She stole it, from under my very nose! We made our way to our final destination, a hill on which she could meet her 'contacts' in the government who wanted her information.

"I still, to this day, don't understand how she managed to infect herself, but she did. Within minutes of leaving the compound, she was dead. The virus then left no trace, only aura similar to that of the Killing Curse, which led to your deduction, I suppose, Mr., excuse me, Captain Weasley."

"Yes, yes it did," Ron said, and leaned back against the couch, deceptively appearing more relaxed.

"I dragged Cassandra to the fields beyond this house. I thought, what a chance! What an opportunity! I relied too much on the deductive skills of you two, Potter and Weasley. Unfortunately, the only information you came to find out was that she was indeed, a Muggle woman.

"I had intended to kill your daughter… his daughter. It doesn't matter now, I suppose. I infected her with the virus. It should have worked."

" 'Should have' being the key phrase there," Delia said, and rose weakly to her feet. "She is most certainly _not_ infected with it now. In fact, I suspect that she may be immune."

Ares raised an eyebrow. "It's not possible."

Delia shrugged. "Believe whatever it is you want to believe. Your time is limited, anyway."

Ares smiled. "I don't think so! Don't you see? I've won! I'm here, aren't I? I managed to get past the defenses of the famous Weasley twins! There's nothing you can do now! I've planted a biological time bomb, programmed to go off at any minute. What are you going to do then, little girl?"

Orion spoke up, as he held Delia's hand."I very much doubt that in your state, you could have programmed something that would actually work, as I suspect you have about two minutes to live. 

"It is not very wise, Mr. Lestrange, to play with matches when one is holding a paper in the other hand. 

"In any case, if there is such a thing, it's not for nothing that Captain Weasley specializes in what he does. In fact, I'm quite sure he was aware of your presence before you reached the door."

Ares whirled around to face Ron. "He wouldn't have dared to! Not with…"

"Not with the children present?" Sirius asked, and raised an eyebrow. "Now, why should that matter when you can't touch them?"

"What are you saying?" Ares's voice grew panicked. 

Delia looked down at her watch. "One minute, Mr. Lestrange. Any last words?"

With a roar, Lestrange launched himself at Sirius, a murderous gleam in his eyes. 

Sirius kicked out sharply, and Lestrange fell to the floor. He gave a weak cough, sputtered, and rolled over to let the blood flow out of his mouth. 

Soon, it was flowing from his eyes, as well, then his ears. Every opening in his body released excess blood.

Then, as Delia predicted, he expired.


	23. Quiet

Chapter Twenty-Two: Quiet

Hogwarts was quiet once again, and it seemed even more of a home than it had before the adventure had started.  Delia had now faced things that she had never even dreamt of facing – and overcome them.

Now she was a different person. A Healer… a girl in her own right, with none of the labels or qualities her father had liked to slap on her before. Now she had a better idea of who she was.

And whom she loved.

Soft footsteps from behind alerted her to the presence of someone else. 

"Hello, Jessica," she said as she turned, and a smile lit her face. She had been gazing out the window, but now she directed her full attention to her friend's face. 

"Hello, Delia," Jessica returned jovially, and went to stand next to her at the window. "How are you?" There was more to the question than what appeared on the surface, Delia knew. 

"I'll be all right soon enough," Delia responded with a smile. "It's just funny, you know? I don't quite feel eleven anymore."

"What _do_ you feel?" Jessica asked. 

Delia sighed. "I don't know… not older… just…"

"Wiser?"

"No, not that either. Just different than before."

"I hope so. I feel different too," Jessica said, quite honestly, and leaned forward on her elbows. "I don't think you're supposed to feel the same after something like that…"

"You mean after you watch someone die?" Delia asked, her bluntness surprising even herself.

"Yes," Jessica agreed, and closed her eyes. "That's exactly it. I don't know why I don't come right out and say it."

Delia smiled, and then suddenly the smile disappeared. "It was worse for me because I knew what was going to happen. I could see it all in my mind, you know? Because I'd already seen what that virus was going to do to Sirius."

Jessica frowned. "Maybe it was better. You could prepare yourself."

"Maybe."

"And you also knew that he wasn't going to live long enough to kill Uncle Sirius or Dad or Mum or anyone."

"Hmm."

Jessica sighed in frustration. "I think we _all_ had a pretty rough time. At least you're pretty sure you won't turn out to be a monster!"

"_You_ won't be a monster. He was just saying those things to make you angry."

"It's not just _him,_ it's Professor Snape, and sometimes I think Professor Lupin…"

Delia grabbed her arm roughly. "Professor Lupin does not think you'll turn out to be a monster. Of all people, he would be the one to _least_ blame circumstances for emotional problems."

Jessica blinked, and looked at the hand that held her forearm in check. "I… I'm sorry."

"No, I'm sorry." Delia sighed. "I shouldn't have done that. I just…"  
  


"Couldn't help yourself?"

"Exactly."

"Delia… I mean…"

"What? What is it?" Delia looked at her friend with sharp eyes. "Tell me what you want to say."

"You and Or… Professor Lupin… you seemed pretty… close."

"Yes?" Delia raised her eyebrows. "Is that it?" 

"I just wanted to know…"

"I know. I know. I would like to know, too. It's difficult to say, really. He's sixteen and I'm eleven. He's a professor and I'm a student. But there isn't really any other choice for us from this point on."

"Why do you say that? You always have a choice."

Delia shook her head, not quite sadly. " I do not have a choice in this anymore." 

"What?"

"We're sort of… bonded. He had to show me everything in order for me to be able to Heal Sirius. Everything he's ever Seen, do you understand?"

"Yes. He showed you all of his visions." 

"Looking into the vision of a Seer is like… Oh, I don't know. Looking in the window of a loo… only much more private. I was looking inside of his mind, and I could see what he was thinking.

"He could see into my heart, as well. That's where a Healer's power lies. He now knows exactly what buttons to push to get me to do what he wants, and vice versa. "

"Sounds creepy to me."

"It is."

Both girls laughed nervously, not quite sure where they stood with each other now. 

"Delia, I'm grateful to you."

Delia looked up at Jessica, confusion on her face. "Excuse me?"

"You've been a good friend… an amazing friend, really! I don't want the school year to end." 

"I don't either!" Delia confessed, and they both giggled, simply reveling in one of the few opportunities they'd had in a while to simply be girls.

"I don't blame you, either," Jessica confessed.

"What's there to blame me for?"

"For liking Orion, you know. He's got really pretty eyes."

Delia blinked, then nodded furiously. "You know, they never really stay the same color, either. They sort of switch between these two shades, especially when he's angry."

"Your brother's eyes kind of do that too," Jessica confided.

"What?" Delia was shocked, and straightened up. "Oh, don't tell me you want to snog my brother?"

"I didn't say I wanted to _snog_ Gareth… Though a kiss would be nice…"

"I can't hear you. I've gone temporarily deaf and I can't hear you…" Delia walked away, and Jessica followed her down the hallway, teasing her mercilessly.

**

Anna Lupin walked through her now silent house, devoid of all the human life and death that had been there only a short time before. 

She wanted to say good-bye. 

There were rooms here that she hadn't been able to bring herself to enter after Remus's death. The nursery. His study.

It appeared he hadn't abandoned her, even in death.

She opened the door to what had once been his study, and sat at his desk. From his drawer she pulled out his pen, which she had long before wrapped in an old handkerchief of his, and inhaled the his scent. 

With a shaky hand she began to write.

The villain is now dead, thanks to Sirius, my brother. Perhaps he is not the last incarnation of the evil and destructive powers of Voldemort that you, my friends, my child, will ever see. He will certainly, however, be my last.

_I am weak now, and there is nothing that I want anyone to do for me. I go to join my husband in eternal bliss._

_Anna Lupin_

She finished the 'n' with a flourish, and looked around the room one last time. "I will see you soon, Remus."

And with that, she died.

**

The Characters… 

_Harry Potter_ lived to the ripe old age of 175, when he died of heart failure. All told, at the time of his passing, he had 8 children, 57 grandchildren, 104 great-grandchildren, and 25 great-great grandchildren. He died a happy man.

_Ginny Potter_ died suddenly at the age of 105 from complications of a long-standing medical problem. She considered her greatest achievement to be the perfection of a recipe for pumpkin bread, due to the fact that she wasn't the world's best cook. However, the rest of the world will forever remember her contributions to Defensive Magic. 

_(Minister) Ron Weasley_ died at the age of 142. During his lifetime he was responsible for the development of no less than 54 security spells. He rose through the ranks of the Department quickly, and when Raina Black retired, he took the position of Commander with grace. It is said that no one ruled the Department with more style and competence than he.

_Hermione Weasley_ continued to be an advocate for the rights of minorities until her death at the age of 173. She worked hard to pass bills promoting the rights of goblins, house-elves, and werewolves. A statue of her stands outside the Department of Civil Rights For Minorities.  

_Sirius Black_ died from a medical condition aggravated from his long years in Azkaban, his contact with the Lestrange virus in the years that followed, and prolonged contact with extreme heat and cold. He was 95 at the time.

_Raina (O'Reilly) Black_ married Sirius shortly after Sirius made a full recovery from the virus. Her only regret in life was that she had not spent more time in the company of her husband, around whom her world revolved.

_Orion and Delia Lupin_ were married after Delia's 7th year. They had 3 children.

_Jessica Potter Williams_ married Gareth, to no one's surprise. She came to grips with her heritage, and formally disowned her biological father and his name when she was 13 years old.

_Mick and James Potter_ became partners with their uncles in the family joke shop, but also did some work on the side for the government. Mick mysteriously went missing in 2036, and James followed him. They returned home in 2038, and settled down with two women they brought back with them, Zeta and Creta, also twins.

_KC Allen _followed the Potter family for years, as well as doing a number of highly dangerous and involved assignments for _The Daily Prophet_. His fast moving lifestyle tired him out quickly, however, and he retired from newspaper writing at the age of 67 to begin his first novel, which was published post-mortem, and was an instant bestseller. The book's title was _Beater Battles,_ due to KC's well-known love of Quidditch. The story centered around several Quidditch Beaters and their lives.

**

Author's Farewell 

It seems I have arrived at an impasse: my two roads diverging in a yellow wood, as it were. I have closed one chapter of my life, and must go on to another. 

The Harry Potter fandom has taught me _so much_ about writing… how to structure a plot, how to use grammar properly… etc. etc. I feel sort of sad to be closing the book on my series now, but it is, after all, inevitable. All good things must one day come to an end, and here lies the end of the "Tested In Fire" universe.

I'm finding it hard to say good-bye. I know my way around this world… I like the characters, especially the ones I've created… Delia, Jessica, Anna, Raina… the twins. 

In light of my moving on, I've begun to write an original novel. It's a bit like jumping out into an ocean when you're not entirely comfortable with your ability to swim, but you know you've been in water before, and hope that will save your life. 

The good Lord, in His infinite mercy, has graced me with support that goes beyond measure in many different forms. Without the help of His grace and the love of the following people, I would have never made it this far, finishing my second fanfiction novel.

Thank you, Anne, for beta reading this, the second of my series, which will end with this installment. I couldn't have asked for a better editor, mentor, and friend.

Thanks also should be extended to KC Allen, a friend whose comments I always welcome. 

Thanks to Maria, without whom I would have stopped writing years ago. Honestly, she's the best friend a gal like me could ask for. She'd be the first to tell you I don't deserve her… Here's to continued years of friendship!

Thanks should also go to my other best friend, Michelle, without whom I probably wouldn't stand before you today. She's a rock, an anchor, and a dear heart. The world may change, but our friendship moves with it – steady. Let's hear it, Michelle, for kindred spirits! _Cheers!_

Thanks to Lourdes, who faithfully reviewed every chapter of DT and TiF. 

Thanks to _all_ of my reviewers! You all are amazing!

Thanks to PhoenixSong.net and all the other websites that have graciously agreed to publish my works. 

I say good-bye now to you, my readers, and hope to see you again sometime after I finish my other projects with my return to the fandom in the form of a MWPP fic.

Au revoir!

LadyChi


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